'  REUBEN  and  RACHEL ; 

O   R, 

TALES  of  OLD  TIMES. 

A     NOVEL. 

..«>...«>....<>.•■.<►  *  ^><^^>^+  .<►...«>••■■<>■  -<>■■ 
By  Mrs.    ROWS  ON, 

AUTHOR    OF    CHARLOTTE,     TRIALS    OF    THE     HEART, 
riLLE  DE   CHAMBRE,  &C.  &C. 

-<>....<>•••.<>■  +<^<^>^>^<t-  <><>•••«■• 

When  oft,  bv  pain  nr  gr'cf  opprek'd, 

Sweet  Poely,  enchanting  fair, 
Has  breath'd  fome  heav'nly  dulcet  air, 

And  footh'd  my  foul  to  rtit. 
But  when  ber  magic  harp  (he  ftnwg, 
And  foftly  pl.ivM  .uid  Iwcctly  fung ; 
Bi<iJi:ig  the  tc anted   Kancy  fly 

•i  eans  vn(t  from  (bore  to  fhorc  ; 
Raiting  bright  vilions  to  the  mental  eye, 

Of  ages  long  fince  palt,  and  days  of  yore  ; 
Llft'ning  enrlptur*d  to  the  Itrain', 
Nor  ficknefs,  furrow,  care,  01  pain, 

Was  e'er  remember'd  more. 

puWitficfc  accoroirur  to  28  of  Sonjjrcfe. 

'BOSTON: 

Printed  by  Manning'  fcf  Loring, 

For  DAVID  WEST,  at  Book-Store, No.^CoruM/. 
Sold  by  him,  and  by  the  Author,  in  Whiter-Street ; 
alfo  by  Ebenezer  S.  Thomas,  CharleJiony  South- 
CarQlina,  and  by  Solomon  Cotton  £3°  Co. Baltimore. 

I798. 


PREFACE. 


PREFACES  in  general  are  elleemed  of  fo  little  confequence, 
that  few  perfons  take  the  trouble  to  read  them.  It  is  there- 
fore an  irkfome  talk  to  be  obliged  to  write,  what  will  neither 
call  up  the  attention,  nor  intereft  the  feelings  of  thofe  who  may 
perufe  the  book  ;  and  yet,  irkfome  as  the  talk  is,  I  6nd  myfekf 
neceflitatcd  to  perform  it. 

I  am  confeious  that  fome  apology  ought  to  be  made  to  the 
public,  for  the  length  of  time  that  has  intervened  lince  I  firft 
awakened  their  curiofity  by  announcing  my  intention  of  publifh- 
ing  the  prefent  work.  In  excufc  for  this  tardinefs,  I  mull  allege 
feveral  months  of  ill  health,  during  which  time  I  was  incapable 
of  purfuing  my  favourite  amufement  of  writing ;  and  uncc  my 
health  lias  been  re-eftablifhed,  an  avocation  of  a  more  ferious  na- 
ture has  employed  every  hour,  and  alnioft  abforbed  every  faculty 
cf  my  mind. 

When  I  firft  ftarted  the  idea  of  writing  "  Tales  of  Old  Times" 
it  was  with  a  fervent  wifii  to  awaken  in  the  minds  cf  my  young, 
readers,  a  curiofity  that  might  lead  them  'o  the  attentive  pcrufal 
of  hiftory  in  general,  but  more  efpecially  the  hiftory  of  their  na- 
tive country.  It  has  ever  been  my  opinion,  that  when  inftruc- 
tion  is  blended  with  amufement,  the  youthful  mind  receives  and 
retains  it  almoft  involuntarily. 

The  firft  volume  of  the  prefent  work  was  written  before  I  had 
entered  on  the  arduous  (though  inexprefubly  delightful)  talk 
of  cultivating  the  minus  and -expanding  the  ideas  of  the  female 
part  of  the  rifing  generation.  If  I  was  before  careful  to  avoid 
every  expreflion  or  fentiment  that  might  miflead  the  judgment, 
or  corrupt  the  heart,  what  was  then  inclination  became  now  an 
indifpenfable  duty.  And  though  none  of  my  cbara&ers  are  fo 
very  faultlefs  as  to  occafion  the  young  reader  to  neglect  imitat- 
ing them  at  all,  becaufe  they  defpair  of  attaining  the  fame  degree 
•f  perfection,  yet  they  difcover  fuch  an  innate  love  of  virtue,  fuch 

a  thorough 


a  thorough  contempt  of  vice,  that  the  uncontaminated  mind  will 
contemplate  with  pleafare  the  heauty  of  the  one,  and  fhrink  with 
abhorrence  from  the  deformity  of  the  other. 

As  a  novelilt,  I  think  it  is  more  than  probable  that  I  have 
made  my  laft  effay.  Flattered  and  encouraged  as  I  am  in  my 
prefent  undertaking,  in  having  the  education  of  fo  many  young 
ladies  entrufted  to  my  care  by  their  refpectable  parents,  it  fhall 
henceforward  be  my  fludy  confeientioufly  to  difcharge  the  truft 
repofed  in  nu;  and  whilft  I  endeavour  to  cultivate  their  tafte, 
and  improve  their  underftandings,  implant,  with  the  utmoft  fo- 
licitude,  in  their  innocent  minds,  a  love  for  piety  and  virtue. 

To  this  end,  1  fhall  devote  my  leifure  hours  to  preparing  a  fct' 
of  progreffive  leflbns  in  reading,  for  the  youth  of  my  own  fex, 
from  five  years  old  to  ten  or  twelve  ;  after  which  period,  there 
are  a  multiplicity  of  books,  better  calculated  to  forward  the  great 
defign  of  education  than  any  my  pen  could  produce. 

It  is  obfervable,  that  the  generality  of  books  intended  for 
children  are  written  for  boys:  even  Mrs.  Barbauld's  Leffons, 
which  are  the  bed  productions  of  the  kind  I  ever  met  with, 
are  addreffed  to  a  boy.  And  as  for  the  generality  of  little  books 
which  children  are  permitted  to  read,  they  are  fuch  a  jumble 
of  inconfiftencies,  that  though  they  may  affift  the  child  to  learn 
to  read  with  propriety,  they  do  not  convey  one  idea  to  the  head 
that  is  worth  retaining.  Mrs.  ■Trimmer,  and  fome  few  others, 
are  exceptions  to  this  remark,  having  laboured  to  correct  this 
falfe  idea,  that  it  was  neceffary  to  excite  the  young  mind  to  the 
purfuit  of  learning  by  tales  wonderful  and  indeed  impoffible,  and 
have  difplayed  to  their  view  the  real  wonders  and  beauties  of 
nature. 

For  my  own  fex  oniy  I  prefume  to  write  ;  and  if  hereafter  one 
woman  fhould  think  herfelf  happier  or  wifcr  from  the  fruits  of 
my  endeavouri,  I  fJiall  be  overpaid  for  the  time  or  pains  bellow- 
ed in  writing  and  arranging  them. 


REUBEN  and    RACHEL; 

O   R, 

TALES    of    OLD    TIMES. 


CHAP.     I. 
An  old  fajbhned  Widow. 

IT  was  about  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century 
that  the  lovely  and  amiable  Ifabclle  found  herfelf  a 
widow,  reduced  from  eafe  and  affluence  to  a  very  con- 
fined income.  Though  her  circumftances  were  altered ; 
her  mind  elevated,  her  fpirit  noble  and  independent, 
was  ftill  the  fame,  lfabelle  was  a  native  of  Spain,  of 
noble  parentage,  expanded  heart,  fupcrior  fenfe,  and 
highly  finifhed  education.  The  beauty  and  elegance 
of  her  perfon,  though  ftriking,  were  but  fecondary  ob- 
ject:; of  the  citeem  and  admiration  fhe  was  fure  to  ex- 
cite wherever  (he  was  feen  or  known. 

In  the  prime  of  life,  having  fcarcely  reached  her 
35th  year,  fuddenly  deprived  of  a  valuable  and  be- 
loved hulband,  lhe  retired  from  a  court  of  which  Jhc 
had  been  a  principal  ornament,  to  a  caftle  romanti- 
cally fituated  on  the  borders  of  Wales.  Amongft  her 
hufband's  vaft  poffeflions,  this  only  had  efcaped  the 
rapacious  hand  of  his  enemies.  It  was  an  antique 
cattle  which  formerly  had  been  defigned  for  defence, 
as  well  as  a  habitation  ;  but  the  fortrefs  had  been  for 
many  years  totally  neglected,  and  the  caftle  itfelf,  in 
many  places,  was  fallen  to  decay.  The  ground  be- 
longing to  it  confided  of  but  a  few  acres,  and  thofc 
few  were  uncultivated  and  rude  ;  a  few  clumps  of  old 
oaks  were  here  and  there  fcattered  on  the  fides  of  the 
hill,  on  the  lummit  of  which  the  caftle  ftood  ;  and  im- 
mediately furrounding  it,  was  a  fmall  patch  which  once 
B  hud 


2  REUBEN   and    RACHEL;  or, 

had  been  ufed  as  a  kitchen  garden.  The  very  trifling 
value  annexed  to  this  final!  dcmelhe  and  its  retired  foli- 
tary  fituation,  made  it  no  objecl  to  the  enemies  of 
Arundel  ;  and  thither  Ifabelle,  with  her  only  child 
Columbia,  retired. 

An  old  female  fervant,  a  native  of  South-America, 
whofe  name  was  Cora,  and  Matthias,  a  veteran  foldier 
who  had  grown  old  in  the  fervice  of  her  hufband's 
father,  with  a  lively  little  girl  particularly  attached  to 
Columbia,  compriied  the  whole  of  her  houlehold. 

Mina  was  the  daughter  of  a  peafant  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  London.  The  little  Columbia,  when 
quite  a  child,  walking  with  her  maid  on  the  banks  of 
the  Thames,  few  Mina  gathering  fome  dry  flicks,  which 
fiie  carefully  tied  in  a  bundle,  and,  dropping  a  curtefy 
as  Columbia  parted,  cried,  "  Blefs  you,  fweet  little 
lady."  Mina  was  juft  nine  years  of  age,  her  complex- 
ion clear  olive,  a  promfion  of  jetty  hair  waved  in  glof- 
iy  ringlets  over  her  neck,  and  partly  lhaded  her  cxpref- 
five  countenance  ;  her  full  black  eyes  beamed  unuttera- 
ble foftnefs,  as  taking  up  her  bundle  of  flicks  lhe  ga/cd 
after  Columbia,  and  cried,  "  Blefs  you,  my  fweet  little 
lady  !"  And  "  blefs  you,  my  pretty  girl,"  faid  Colurn- 
bia  ; '"  why  do  you  carry  that  heavy  bundle  ?"  "  'Tis 
wood  to  make  a  fire  fo.r  mammy  who  is  fick."  "  "Where 
does  your  mammy, live  ?"  "  There,  in  that  little  cot- 
tage by  the  rpa-d  fide."  Columbia,  though  not  eight 
years  old,  porterted"-a  heart  glowing  with  the  llrongeft 
feeling-,  cf  humanity  ;  [he  darte*d  forward,  and  in  a  mo- 
'  merit,  was  at  the  dooi-of  Miiia's  cottage.  "  You  mull 
not  go  in,  Mii's,'*  fa?d  the  fervant ;  "  if  the  woman  ihould 
be  fick  of  any  contagions  diforder,  and  you  Ihould  catch 
it,  what  wpuld  my  lady  fay  ?"  "  What  would  lhe  fay 
(replied  the  child)  if  I  parted  by  the  houfe  without 
inquiring  what  ailed  the  poor  woman  ?  I  will  go  in, 
and  then  I  can  tell  my  mother,  who  will,  I  am  lure, 
give  me  feme  money  to  bring  to  her  to-morrow."  Op- 
pofition  was  ufelefs  ;  the  benevolent  child  entered  the 
cottage,  and  beheld  a  fcene  of  mifcry,  which,  though 
ihe  did  not  fully  comprehend,  fiie  on  her  return  heme 
fufhciently  explained  to  her  mother,  to  obtain  immedi- 
ate 


TALES    of    OLD    TIM:  3 

ate  relief  for  the  poor  cottager  ;  and  Mina  was  taken  in- 
to the  family  and  promoted  to  the  honour  oi  waiting 
entirely  on  her  little  benefactrefs. 

When  the  lady  Ifabelle  retired  to  Auitenbury 
Caftle,  Columbia  was  eleven  years  old.  It  was  her 
mother's  chief  amufement  to  cultivate  an  under  Handing 
naturally  good,  but  where  fometimes  the  ihoots  of  fe- 
male vanity  impeded  the  progrefs  of  thofe  virtues,  which 
nature  with  a  liberal  hand  had  implanted  in  her  lieart* 
Remarkably  lovely  in  her  perfon,  ihe  would  frequently 
decorate  her  hair  with  field  Rowers,  at  the  fame  tune 
placing  gai lands  of  them  infantaftic  drapery  about  her 
drefs ;  and  then,  having  admired  herfelf  in  the  natural 
bafon,  which  ornamented  their  little  garden,  fly  to  ].er 
mother,  and  exclaim  with  tranipon,  "  OrJv  fee  how 
beautiful!"  When  Mina,who  thought  her  you 
almoil  a  divinity,  would  rapturouily  cry,  "  iWt  ihe, 
my  kidy,  look  like  an  angel  f" 

Vabc'lie,  though  delighted  to  obfervc  the  unbounded 
%ivacity  of  her  daughter,  and  tiu  grat<  OO   erf 

her  little  dependant,  was  fully  feftfibk  of  the  aeceffity 
there   was    for   checking   thofe  'ebullitions  of  v, 
which,  if  fuffered  to  pais  unnoticed,  would 
throw  a  ihade  over  the  really  valuable- qualities  of  gcod 
fmfe,  good  nature,   and  benevolence,  with  v/hAn  the 
foul  of  her  daughter  was  amply  ftored.     Her  rerjec-' 
tionsonthis  fubjecT:  were'  .often •painful  in  the  extreme. 
Secluded  from  the  world,  fee".hacf  no 'friend  with  whom 
fhe  could  advife.      Severity  (ihe  would  fay  within  her- 
felf) will  but  teach  my  child  to  cdnfider  me  as  a  frigid 
monitrefs,  her  heart  will" contract  and  hide  its  thoughts 
from  an  eye  that  beams  only  witli  reproach  !   No  ;   I 
muil  watch  the   favourable  moment,   and  effectually 
eradicate   this  error,  by  convincing  h.  banding 

of  its  folly.  I  would  be  the  guardian  of  my  child's 
morals  ;  I  would  be  her  friend,  and  direct  her  in  the 
way  moft  likely  to  fecure  her  prefent  and  future  hap- 
pinefs ;  but  for  the  univerfe  I  would  not  forfeit  the 
exquiiite  pleafure.of  participating  every  thought,  every 
vriih  of  her  innocent  heart. — No;  let  me  not,  by  ill  tinned 
lianhaefs,  drive  ner  guilelcfs  and  uufulpeciing  nature 

to 


4  REUBEN   and    RACHEL;  or, 

to  mean  fubterfuge  and  artifice  ;  had  Hie  a  thoufand 
errors,  (he  is  ftill  my  child,  and  though  it  is  my  duty 
to  correct,  it  is  alfo  my  duty  to  conceal  and  palliate 
faults,  which  reflexion  tells  me,  are  but  the  offspring 
of  human  nature. 

It  was  ever  the  care  of  Ifabelle  to  imprefs  on  the 
mind  of  her  daughter  a  proper  fenfe  of  a  wife,  benig- 
nant, overruling  Power;  to  whom  (he  was  indebted 
for  her  being,  and  to  whom  fhe  was  accountable  for 
her  words  and  actions;  but  this  was  done  more  by  ex- 
ample than  precept.  Calumny  was  a  ftranger  to  her 
lips  ;  to  perform  every  good  work  of  peace  and  mercy 
was  the  delight  of  her  heart.  She  worfhipped  her 
Creator  with  fincerity  and  fervor  ;  no  appointed  hour, 
no  let  form  of  prayer  ;  every  blefilng  was  received 
with  thankfulnefs,  every  corredion  fubmitted  to  with 
patience.  Amongft  the  mod  heinous  offences  (he  rec- 
koned the  mifufe  or  neglecl  of  time,  and  the  total  ahufe 
or  pcrverfion  of  God's  good  gifts.  Every  hour  of  her 
life  was  ufefully  employed,  and  fhe  dealt  by  every  hu- 
man being,  as  (he  wiihed  them  to  deal  "by  her. 

It  was  a  fine  evening  in  the  middle  of  September, 
when  Columbia  afked  her  mother  to  partake  of  fome 
fruit' in  a.  neat  arbo.ur  Matthias  had  drelTed  by  the  fide 
of  "the  pond:  "  You  forget,  my  dear  mother,  (faid  (he) 

vful- 


poor 
lome  to 

live  with  me  ;  a*ntl.ihc  has  been  ;fo  affectionate,  fo  grate- 
ful, that  to-day  L'anYdeter-mineXl  (he  lhall  be  queen  of 
the  fcaft.  You  do  no):  know  how  charming  it  will  be  ! 
Matthias  has  got  us'fbrrie  jjesclies,  and  Cora  has  pro- 
vided  cream,  with  baled -apple's  and  wheat  cakes  ;  and 
whilil  you  refreih  yourfelf,  Mina  .and  I  will  fmg  and 
dance  to  divert  you."  Ifabelle  clafped  the  interesting 
child  in  her  arms,  and  repaired  to  the  appointed  fcene 
of  infantile  feftivity. 

After  the  collation  was  over,  at  which  Mina  was 
made  to  prefule,  Columbia  told  her  mother,  that  (lie 
could  never  repay  the  pleafure  her  firfl:  acquaintance 
with  that  little  girl  had   given  her ;  «  For,"  faid  ihc, 

«<  before 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.  $ 

"before  I  faw  her  diftrefs,  and  you,  my  beloved  moth- 
er, gave  me  the  means  to  relieve  it,  I  had  no  idea   of 
happinefs  beyond  myfelf ;  but  that  bleii'ed  day  I 
me,   that  to  confer  happinefs  on   another,  gave  the 
mihd   ienfations  a  thoufand  times  more  exquilite  than 
any  other   enjoyment  the   world  affords."     She  then, 
with  the   fwiftnefs    and   light   bound   of   an   antelope, 
fprang  from  her  mother's   embrace,   and    ran  t 
the  eaftle  ;  but  foon  returned  with  Mina,  decora- 
all  the  finery  they  could  put  together.     The  jett 
of  Mina  hung  loofe  and  unadorned  about  her  neck  and 
moulders,  whilli  her  little  White  jacket  and   petticoat 
were  richly  ornamented  with  orange  lilies,  poppies  and 
blue  iris. 

The  fine  auburn  tre.Tcs  of  Columbia  were  bound  up 
with  a  garland  of  corn  flowers,  and  autumnal  daifies, 
whofe  glowing  tints  vieJ  widi  the  colour,  whild  the 
confeioufnefs  of  their  becoming  effect  gave  an  addi- 
tional brilliancy  to  her  eyes.  Her  drefs,  which  was 
compo&d  of  light  grey  latin,  (he  had  lightly  and  ele- 
gantiy  ornamq&ted  with  fedoons  of  oak  leaves,  \ 
dark  native  green  was  at  this  period  of  the  yeai 
cned  by  the  bright  yellow,  and  glowing  fcatlet  hu  , 
they  had  caught  from  the  chilly  breath  of  autumn- 
Light  as  the  gou~amer  they,  boend  over  the  .turf,  danc- 
ing to  the  notes  of  their  own.  harmonious, voices."  The 
lg  was  ferene  ;  the  flowing  1-un  j oA 'touched  with 
his  broad  difk  tlie  weftern  oc^an,  whiUl  as- he  funk  be- 
the  (hades  of  nightf  ti'e  moron,  emerging  from 
h.r  w.tcry  bed,  reflected  his^cUo ill  ing  beams,  and 
tinged  *h-:  cold  erUicrn/fky  with  iarfron  hue,  whild  here 
and  there  k  (catter&L  cloud,  dart  la  itfelfi  caught  her 
j)  lie  rays,  and  brightened  by  degrees  to  high-wrought 
iilver. 

Katigiled  with  the  exercife  of  dancing,  Columliia 
pa, Lied  upon  the  margin  of  the  ftream  ;  its  furface  was 
fmooth  and  even  as  the  polilhed  mirror ; — her  elegant 
form,  becoming  drefs,-  and  angel  countenance  were  re- 
flected in  the  water.  She  Hopped  and  gazed.  A  beam 
of  exultation  fhot  from  her  eyes.  It  was  the  moment 
Ifabelle  had  fo  long  wilhed  for. 

B  2  «  And 


6  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  And  what  does  my  child  fo  intently  gaze  at  V* 
(laid  fhc,  approaching  her  daughter.) 

Mina  Hood  at  a  little  diftance  ;  her  own  beauty  was 
to  herfelf  unknown,  her  whole  foul  was  wrapt  in  ad- 
miring the  beauty  of  her  young  lady.  When  the  lady 
Ifabellc  ipoke,  flic  drew  near  and  liilened  with  atten- 
tion. ^  She  loved  her  with  grateful  affection,  and  in- 
llruction  from  her  lips  funk  directly  to  her  heart. 

"And  what  does  my  child  fo  intently  gaze   at?'' 
faid  Ifabelle,  "  is  it  the   lovely  form   with  which  na- 
ture has  bountifully  endowed  her  ;  and  which  the  un- 
ruffled furface  of  the  watei*fo  beautifully  reflects  to  her 
admiring  eyes  ?    Alas,  my  child,  if  that  is  the  object  of 
your  admiration,   how  fragile   is  the   plcafure  you  re- 
ceive !  What  is  it  you  contemplate  ?    A  fhadow  ;  nay, 
lefs  than  a  ihadow  ;  for  beauty  itfclf  is  but  a  fhadow, 
fcarce  feen  before  it  is  gone  ;   and  that  fair  femblar.ee 
you  there  behold  is  but  the  fhadow  of  a  fliade.     Be- 
hold, my  child,"    continued  fhe,  throwing  fomething 
into  the  water,   "  fee  that  beauteous  figure,   how  de- 
formed, how   difgufling ;  every   trait    of  lcvclinefs    is 
gone."     Columbia  turned  from  the  ftream  with  an  in- 
voluntary fhudder.     Ifabellc   continued — "  Or  fee,  my 
love,  thefc  flowers,  with  which  but  a  few  hours  fincc 
you  decorated  your  hair  ;  they  were  then  frefh-blocm- 
ing  and   beautiful  beyond  defcription  ;  behold  them 
now  !   their  fweets  are.  all  exhaled,  their  vivid  tints  are 
flown,  and  no  longer  Valuable,  you  would  throw  them 
from  yen  with  neglect  and  abhorrence.     Even  fo,  my 
dear  Columbia,   is  it  with   the  frail  beauty  which  ycu 
io   ardently   admire;    .One  breath  from   the  creative 
Power  that  gave  you  being,  might  level  you  with  the 
duft.      Sicknefs,    misfortune,  poverty,    might   deprive 
your  eyes  cf  their  luftre,   your'  fkin  of  its  glofTy  hue, 
and  ftcal  the  luxuriant  trcllcs  frcm  your  head.     Nay, 
even  at  this  moment,  the   cold  hand  of  death  might 
fink  you  into  nothing  ;  and  thofe  who  to-day  looked  at 
you  with  admiration,  would  to-morrow  turn  from  you 
with  difguit  and  tenor.     Like  thefe  poor  flowers  you 
would  be  thrown  upon  the  earth,  be  trod  under  foot 
and  forgotten," 

Mina, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  7 

Mlna,  dropping  her  garland  on  the  ground,  felted 
her  young  lady  by  the  arm,  as  though  lhe  would  favc 
her  from  fo  disgraceful   an  end.     Columbia  looked  at 
her  with  affection,  gently  freed  herfelf  from  her  grafp, 
and,  looking  at  the  faded  flowers  with  eyes  dreaming 
with  tears  aiked  her  mother,  "  Am  T,  then,  of  no  more 
confequence  than  thefe  Rowers,  and  may  I  be  as  cafdy 
deftroyed  >    Shall  I  be  as  foon  reduced  to  nothing  •" 
"  No,    my   beloved  girl,  (laid    Ifabelle)    you  are  of  a 
thoufand  times  more  value  than  the  faireft  flower  that 
ever  bloomed,  or  tlie  richeft  gem  that  ever  decked  the 
brow  of  royalty.     Look   round,  my  love,  behold   tins 
vaft,  this  glorious  univerfe  ;  what  beauty,  what  order  ! 
How  does  the  mind  expand  with  wonder  and   delight 
as  we  contemplate  the  fields  of  ripened  grain,  the  load- 
ed fruit  trees,   verdant  plains  and  majeftic    mountains, 
whofe  fummits  feem  to  kifs  the  face  of  heaven.     Ob- 
fcrve  how  grand,  how  ftrikingly  fublime,  appears  the 
orb  of  day,  juft  linking  in  the  weftern  (ky,  which  flames 
with  crimlbn,  burnilhed  gold  and  purple  ;  .and  fee,  as 
he  retires,  the  placid  moon   aluimes   her   lilent   reign, 
whilft  millions  of  liars  compole  her  fplendid  train,  and 
glitter  in  the  vaft  expanfe  of  ether.     Stupendous,  great 
and  wonderful  as   thefe  appear,  believe  me,  my  child, 
one  pure,  virtuous  human  foul  is  ot  more  value  in  the 
light  of  the  Creator,  than  all  tjtat  you  behold.     They 
lhall  fade  away,  lhall  vanilh    as   a   dream,  .and  be  no 
more   remembered  ;  but   tile  foul,  tfudious-  to  perform 
its  duty,  beneficent  to  its  fellow  creatures,  and  glowing 
•*with  grateful,  humble  aftedionto-the  great  Firft  Caulc  ' 
of  all,  (hall  ftand  fecure  amid  the  general  ruin,  and  rife 
triumphant  from  a  linking  world.'' 

Thus  did  Ifabelle  endeavour  to  infpire  her  daughter 
with  a  thorough  contempt  for  all  frivolous  purfuits,  and 
to  give  her  a  juft  fenfe  of  the  value  of  mental  acquire- 
ments. From  this  time  flic  fully  comprehended  of 
how  much  more  confequence  was  the  embellillnng  of 
the  mind,  than  the  trifling  decorations  of  the  per- 
.  foru  •  Belides,  having  been  informed  of  the  immortal- 
ity of  the  foul,  flic  was  anxious  in  inquiry  for  the  means 
by  which  fo  invaluable  a  bleffing  might  be  pjefcrved  ; 

and 


8  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

and  to  hint  to  her  the  dang  it   a 

privilege,   w;is  alwa;--  fuiHcient  her  from  ■ 

thing  that  was  wron£. 

It  cannot  be  imagined  that  a  worn. 
could  p  ift  at  once  from   the  court  to  the  cottage, 
he  faffered  i  >  glide  unnoticed  into  obfeurity.    Amonj 
the  fHend  •  aad  intimates  or  her  days  of  fplendor,  v. 
fome,  tenderly  attached  to  her  from  principle,  and  otb- 
ers,  v.  hom  the  united  beau  iejs  of  her  mind  and  p* 
had  infpired  with  a  wi'i,  to  lead  her  again  to  the  attar 
of  Hymen.     But  Ifabelle  had  drank  toe  deeply  of  the 
bitter  cup  of  ailhcricn  to  fuffer  love  ever  again  to  enter 
her  bofom.      Faithful  to  tlie  memory  of  her  regretted 
lord,  her  heart  could   receive   no  iecond  impreffion. 
"  Our  love/'  {he  would  fay,  "  was  unfortunate,  but  he 
has  left  me  an  inestimable  pledge  behind  ;  (hall  I  give 
the  daughter  of  my  adored  Arundel  another  father,  or 
by  extending  my  family  duties  have  lefs  time  to  bcitow 
in  rendering  my  child   worthy  of  the  name  fhe  bears  ? 
No  ;  the  fincereft  proof  I  can  give  of  my  affeftion  to 
her  father,  is  to  live  a  widow  for  her  fake." 

This  refolve  of  Ifabelle  being  once  known,  and  me 
llill  perfifting  in  feclnding  hcdelf  from  the  world,  Hie 
was  foon  t\\\  gotten,  almoft  as  much  as  if  ihe  had  been 
dead  ;  for  love  cannot  long  exift  without  hope,  and 
the  gay  ancT"*thoueh'tlels  icon  forget  thofe  on  v  horn 
the  ran  of  profrJerity.  no  longer  'dunes.  She  was  left 
in.  peace  to  enjoy  her  retirement,  and  to  cultivate  un- 
mo.lefted  the  mind  of  her. lovely  daughter*  4 

C  H  A  P.       II. 
The  Dangers  of  Great nefs. 

AS  Columbia  increafed  in  years,  her  alTefrion  for 
her  mother  daily  ftrengthened.  It  was  an  affec- 
tion actuated  by  the  enthufiaftic  fervor  of  youth,  yet 
fweeily  tempered  by  a  friendfiiip  which  might  have  be- 
come maturcr  years.     Ifabelle  was  to  her  daughter, 

mother, 


TALES    o»    OLD    TIMES.  9 

mother, filler,  friend  ;  every  tender  connexion  combined 
in  one.  Never  did  child  more  love  or  fear  :i  parent ;  yet 
her  fear  did  not  proceed  from  the  apprehenfion of  pun- 
iihmcnt  or  fevere  correction.  But  to  fee  her  mother 
frown,  to  be  told  ihc  had  offended  her,  and  to  be 
fpoken  to  with  coldnefs,  gave  her  fuch  inexpreiTible  an- 
guifh,  that  the  thought  at  any  time  was  fufficient  to 
rill  her  eyes  with  tears. 

As  Hie  advanced  towards  womanhood,  ftw  could  not 
but  obferve  the 'extreme  penfivenefs  of  her  mother's 
difpofition  ;  the  purfuits  and  pleafures  of  childhood 
gradually  loft  their  charms,  flie  more  frequently  fought 
the  fociety  of  Ifabellc,  and  when  fometimes  fiie  furprif- 
ed  her  in  tears,  l'he  would  fink  on  her  knees  before  her, 
and,  folding  her  arms  round  her  w.tilr,  cry,  "  Why,  my 
beloved  mother,  will  yon  confine  your  forrows  to  your 
own  breaft,  why  not  repofe  them  in  the  bofom  of  your 
child  ?  Let  me  fharc  them,  my  mother,  and  in  fiiai  ing 
ibothc  them."  Ifabelle  would  faintly  fsitle  at  thele 
effufions  of  her  daughter's  tcndernels,  and  as  liie  killed 
the  affectionate  girl  tell  her,  it  was  too  early  in  life  tor 
fyer  to  be  acquainted  with  forrow,  though  lhc  could 
feel  it  only  from  the  tendernefs  of  her  nature,  leading 
her  to  compailionatc  the  fufferings.  of  others.    • '  ; 

"  I  am  not  fo  happy  as  I  formerly  -was*  my  dear 
Mina,"  faid  Columbia  to  her  al-Rndafifonc.evcniug  as 
they  were  walking  in  the  garden  ;  "  f.fee  my  mother 
daily  finking  under  the  weight  of  .afiE&icms  1  can  nei- 
ther comprehend  or  alleviate.  Ye'fterday  I  tremblingly 
aiked  her,  if  I  was  the  cau'e  of  her  forrow  ;  lhc  pre  Tied 
me  to  her  hea' l  and  ifeid,  in  fome  meafure  1  was. 
Alarmed,  I  inquired  what  I  had  done  to  offend  her. 
Nothing,    lhc  replied  ;   you    arc'my  only  comfort,  my 

grcatelt  bleflmg,  and  I  cannot  but  lament Her  tears 

at  that  moment  impeded  her  words,  and  when  ifie  re- 
covered her  voice,  flic  bade  me  leave  her.  I  obeyed  ; 
but  ftill  I  have  a  weight  upon  my  heart,  an  anxious, 
reitlels  wilh  to  know,  how  without  offending  1  can 
caufe  her  fo  much  atlliclion." 

Mina  could  not  fatisfy  her  young  lady's  curiofity  ; 
flic  could  only  kits  her  hands,  and  in  a  voice  rendered 

exquifitely 


ro  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

exquisitely  foft  by  grateful  affe&ion,  declare  it  was  im- 
pollibie  her  dear  little  benefaetrefs   could  ofFend  any 

one  ! 

But  though  Mina  was  ignorant  of  the  caufe  of  Ifa- 
bclle's  tear$,  Cora,  the  Indian  fervant,  was  not  equally 
in.  She  law  Columbia  partook  of  her  mother's  depref- 
hon,  without  un^erflanding  the  caufe  ;  and  the  loquaci- 
ty naturally  prevalent  in  perfons  of  an  advanced  age, 
made  her  eagerly  watch  for  an  opportunity  to  inform 
the  inHocent  girl  o{  all  me  knew.  The  moment  long 
fought  at  length  »i - -ived.  Columbia  had  frequently  cb- 
jcrvtd  her  mother  weeping  over  papers  which  fhe  took 
from  a  private  drawer  in  an  efcritoire  which  flood  in 
her  bed- chamber,  and  which  in  no  other  pnrt  was  lock- 
ed, except  thai:  which  ihe  mo  ft  wilhcd  to  explore.  One 
day  coming  fudderdy  into  the  room,  fhe  faw  her  gazing 
lich  fhe-i  i  \<  :v  lips,  railing  her 

eyes  toward  heaven  with  a  fort  of  revef.-ent.ial  awe. 
"  May  I  not,  ray  dear  mother/'  fajd  fhe,  "  behold  the 
object  that  ieems  at  once  to  excite  both  grief  and  exulta- 
tion."  Jiabelle  turned  the  portrait  towards  her  ;  it  was 
an  Indian  maid  habited  in  the  manner  of  her  country  ; 
but  in  habiliments  that  befpjQJkfe  her  of  elevated  rank. 
Her  jetty  hair,  which  flowed  in  profusion  round  her 
face  and  over  her  neck,  was  ornamented  with  a  coronet 
of  pearl  and  gold  ;  her  thin  white  robe  was  clafped  at 
the  bofomvirh  ft  alls  'of  the  fame  valuable  materials, 
and  her  arms,  which  were  naked  to  the  fhoulders,  were 
in  feveral  places  bound  with  bands  of  filver  and  coral. 
"  This,"  faid  Ifabelle,  as  fhe  prefented  it  to  her  daugh- 
ter, "  is  the  portrait  of  your  grandmother  ;  by  birth  a 
c  •;.'.•':'».',  the  only  child  o,f  a. monarch  whofe  wealth  had 
no  bounds,  and  who,  far- from  the  haunts  of  thofe  who 
ires  civilized  people,  reigned  unmolefted,  till 
the  adventurous  fpirit  of  you*  great  anceftor  Columbus 
prompted  him  to  feek  in  diftant  feas  for  unknown  worlds. 
Oh.  ml  dime  and  too  during  Cpii  it,"  fhe  continued,  whilft 
her  rajfed  eyes  gliftened  SWth  the  tear  of  extorted  re- 
membrance, "  why  wort  tuou  endowed  with  qualities, 
which  ferved  but  to  ftir  up  in  the  breads  of  thine  enemies 
&C  rmdjgnant  fiend  Envy.     Why  !   whilft  thou  wert  la* 

bouring 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  lit 

bouring  to  benefit  and  enlighten  pofteiity,  wert  thou 
fealing  thy  own  ruin  !" 

The  portrait  dropped  from  her  hand,  and  her  head 
Tefled  on  the  Ihoulder  of  her  child.  "  Oh  !  my  daugh- 
ter," cried  fhe  enthufiaftically,  as  her  tears  fubfided, 
"  whilit  I  glory  in  the  qualities  with  which  it  has  pleaied 
Heaven  to  endow  your  mind  and  perfon,  I  cannot  but 
tremble  for  your  future  fate  ;  for  to  poflefs  fuperiof 
beauty,  (enk  or  genius,  is  but  to  excite  the  wonder  of 
the  ignorant,  and  the  envy  of  little  minds,  whilft  thofe 
who  are  wife,  or  great  in  their  own  conceit,  will  wound 
your  feelings  with  contempt  or  ridicule,  which  your 
own  good  nature  and  fenfibility  will  not  permit  you  to 
retaliate.  I  cannot  proceed,  my  child  ;  my  powers 
are  not  at  prefent  adequate  to  the  talk,  of  recounting  the 
misfortunes  of  your  family."  Ifabelle  paufed  lor  a  mo- 
ment, then  tenderly  kilfed  Columbia,  and  leaving  the 
portrait  in  the  hands  of  her  child,  palled  from  the  apart- 
ment. 

Sinking  upon  the  feat  her  mother  had  left  unoccupi- 
ed, one  hand  fupporting  her  head  as  her  elbow  retted  on 
the  efcritoire,  the  other  which  held  the  portrait  fell  on 
her  knees,  her  eyes  immoveably  fixed  on  thofe  of  the 
inanimate  face  ihe  contemplated,  Columbia'  fat  im- 
moveable as  a  ftatue,  till  roufed  by. the  voice  of  Cora. 
"  Look  there,"  faid  Ihe,  putting  the.  miniature  towards 
the  aged  fervant ;  "  fee  !  my  .mother  fays  it  is  the  pic- 
ture of  my  grandmother.""*"  It  is,  it  i<y'  cried  Cora, 
dropping  on  her  knees  and  Jufiing  the  picture  with  rap- 
ture ;  "  it  is  the  figure  of  my  queen,  my  miftrefs,  in  the 
drefs  five  wore  on  the  day  fiie  was  efp on  fed  by  Don 
Ferdinando.  Oh  fatal  day  !  unhappy  hour  !  by  that 
union  ihe  fealed  her  own  wretchedness,  the  ruin  of  her 
father,  the  (lavery  of  his  people,  and  brought  deitruc- 
tion  on  the  heads  of  her  adored  hufband  and  his  refpect- 
ed  parent!  Ah!  my  fweet  ycung  miftrefs,  I  can  no 
longer  forbear  ;  I  mull;  tell  you  the  fatal  rlory  of  your 
father's  wrongs." 

"  Do  fo,"  laid  Ifabelle,  who  at  that  moment  returned 
to  her  apartment ;  "  do  fo,  my  goodCora ;  and  let  it  be  a 
warning  to  my  child  how  Ihe  quits  the  quiet  paths  of 

retirement 


12  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

retirement  to  enter  on  the  gay  or  bufy  fcenes  of  life. 
Here,  take  this  key  ;  what  your  memory  cannot  furnilh 
toward  the  recital,  the  papers  you  will  rind  in  that 
drawer  will  affift.  Liften  with  attention,  my  dear  child, 
and  learn  that  content  builds  her  dwelling  in  folitude, 
and  peace  fpreads  her  pinions  over  the  cottage  of  the 
humble;  whilft  the  paths  of  ambition  are  ftrewed  with 
thorns,  and  the  dwellings  of  the  great  are  the  habita- 
tions of  mifery." 

CHAP.     III. 

An  Old  IVomari's  Tale  interrupted. 

"  TT  is  many  years  ago,"  faid  Cora,  feating  herfelf 
X  in  an  eafy  chair,  her  right  hand  fpread  out,  as 
commanding  attention,  and  every  feature  of  her  aged 
countenance  beaming  with  the  fatisfadtion  which  the 
liberty  of  repeating  talcs  of  old  times  gave  her;  "  it 
is  a  great  many  years  ago,  I  was  then  fcarccly  eight 
years  old,  when  your  great-grandfather  Columbus  ar- 
rived in  our  country  ;  I  never  lliall  forget  it  :  for  I  can 
remember  tilings  which  happened  when  I  was  a  child 
much  better  than-  thofe  which  pafs  now  daily.  Time 
Heals  away  our  memory,  but  thofe  things  which  cither 
frightened,  or  furprifed  us  when  we  were  young,  are 

the  lull  which  we  forget.   "  So  as  I  was  faying" 

"  Stay,mygoodCora,"  faid  Columbia,  "let  us  exam- 
ine the  papers  ;  there  may  be  letters  which  may  ferve  to 
elucidate  your  relation,  and  explain  events  which  hap- 
pened antecedent  to  the  time  of  your  remembrance." — 
"  I  do  not  think  you  will  find  any  worth  reading,"  faid 
Cora,  impatiently.  "  We  will  fee,"  replied  Columbia, 
mildly,  as  ihe  opened  the  drawer.  "  You  may  look," 
cried  Cora  fomewhat  pettifiily,  "  but  I  am  i'ure  there  is 
nothing  worth  attending  to,  till  the  time  of  Don  Ferdi- 
nando's  arrival  in  Peru  and  becoming  enamoured  ol  my 
royal miftrefsOrrabclla."  uHufh,huJh,my  kindfriend," 
faid  Columbia.      "  Here  is  a  letter  fxgned  Columbus  ; 

there 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  13 

there  are  feveral  in  the  fame  hand  writing  ;  they  muft 
contain  facts  necelfary  for  me  to  know,  or  they  would 
not  be  thus  carefully  preferred.  Be  filent,  and  I  will 
read  them  to  you.  Cora  fat  herfelf  back  in  the  cafy 
chair,  and  fhtttting  her  eyes  in  token  of  attention,  re- 
mained filent.     Columbia  opened  the  letter. 

Columbus  to  Beatina. 

O&obcr,  1490. 

1  AM  parted  from  you,  my  adored  Beatina  ;  but 
painful  as  the  parting  is,  1  feel  it  is  for  our  future  advan- 
tage. I  am  convinced,  my  beloved  wife,  that  there  are 
worlds  beyond  the  narrow  bounds  which  our  natural 
philofophers  at  prefent  prefcribc.  I  have  ftudicd  much, 
my  lovely  friend,  and  am  alxnoft  certain,  that  were  1 
fupplied  with  veflels,  men,  provilions,  and  every  thing 
neceftary,  1  ihould  make  difcoveries  that  would  Occa- 
lion  my  name  to  be  revered  in  alter  ages;  and  ihofe 
who  blamed  my  lovely  Beatina  for  giving  herfelf  to  her 
Columbus,  ftiall  fay,  "  You  did  right,  Beatina  j  Co- 
lumbus has  an  enterpriiing  fpirit  that  will  carve  out  a 
fortune,  even  from  a  barren  wafte.  For  is  not  the 
ocean  a  barren  wafte  ?  and  yet  even  from  that  do  I, 
mean  to  carve  out  for  my  foul's  idol  an  empire,  where 
inz  fhall  reign  queen  over  all,  as  lhe  does  over  my 
heart.  .       '     • 

Why,  why,  my  beft  beloved,  are  you  not  endowed 
with  ftrcngth  of  frame,  that  your.friendfhip  might  in- 
creafe  my  fortitude  in  danger,  and  fhare  the  glorious 
triumph  of  unexpected  fuccefs  ?  Yet  why  mould  I  wiih 
you  to  lofe  the  fweet  feminine  foftnefs  which  firft; 
won,  and  ftill  holds  captive  my  heart  ?  I  know  not 
what  I  wifh,  Beatina.  You  fo  entirely  pofTefs  my 
thoughts,  that  whilft  I  fearch  this  vaft  globe  for  un- 
known worlds,  to  lay  them  at  your  feet  when  found,  T 
would  have  the  fame,  the  glory  of  the  difcovery  all 
your  own.  And  will  it  not  be  yours  ?  Yes !  farely 
yes;  for  you  infpired  the  thought,  prompted  the 
fearch,  and  are  the  magic  charm  that  actuates  all  my 
endeavours. 

C  Tell 


14         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

Tell  our  dear  Fcrdinando,  that  though  I  have  by 
my  marriage  with  his  mother  deprived  him  of  his 
birthright  as  the  only  heir  of  an  ancient  and  wealthy 
marquis,  I  will  toil  to  recompenfc  to  him  the  facrifice 
his  dear  mother  made  to  me.  Sweet  Beatina,  do  not 
grieve  at  this  our  long  reparation  ;  when  I  return,  I 
will  return  worthy  of  your  love ;  I  will  make  my 
charmer  worfliipped  by  thofe  who  now  hold  her  in 
contempt.  I  am  about  to  lay  before  the  king  ot 
Portugal  a  plan  for  making  thofe  difcoveries,  you  have 
to  frequently  heard  me  mention  as  more  than  proba- 
ble. If  he  liftens  to  me,  my  fortune  is  certain;  if  he 
treats  my  propofals  as  chimerical,  the  offspring  of  a 
difordered  imagination,  I  will  apply  to  feme  other 
power.  Dearell,  have  courage  ;  the  perfevering  fpirit 
rnuft  in  time  conquer.  Believe  I  but  exift,  whilft  ab- 
fent  from  you,  and  think  that  exigence  fcarcely  worth 
preferving  but  for  your  fake.  Heaven  blefs  my  Bea- 
tina. C.  COLUMBUS. 

"  That  letter  was  written  before  my  remembrance," 
faid  Cora.  **  Very  likely,"  replied  Columbia,  fcarce- 
ly noticing  the  date,  in  her  eagernefs  to  open  another. 

Columbus  to  Beatina. 

January,  1 491. 

I  HAVE  been  difappointed,  my  fweet  friend,  but 
be  not  you  disheartened.;  Thanks  be  to  Heaven,  I  left 
you  and  my  darling  boy  in  a  fafe  retreat,  where, 
though  not  enjoying  all  the  advantages  your  rank  in 
life  might  demand,  you  have  at  leaft  all  the  comforts 
neceffary  to  the  real  pleafurcs  of  life. 

But  think  not,  my  beloved,  my  efteemed  friend,  I 
W(  old  wander  forth  in  fearch  cf  adventures,  ami  leave 
the  wife  cf  my  choice  and  the  offspring  cf  her  aiiciftion 
to  languilh  out  many  years,  ray,  perhaps  their  uholc 
lives,  in  obfeurity.  No  !  no  !  Columbus  labours  not 
for  his  own  ad-vantage,  but  for  the  advantage  cf  thofe 
fa  nearly,  U>  dearly  connected  with  him.  I  will  leave 
you,  my  love,  whenever  I  quit  my  native  land,  in  a 
•Irate  of  honour  and  opulence,  cr  my  fchemc  flmll  be 
totally  abandoned.  If  ; 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  i> 

It  I  fail,  if  in  this  (gen-rally  thought)  romantic 
plan  I  lofc  my  life,  your  father  will  no  doubt  be  rec- 
onciled to  you,  nor  flight  the  offspring  of  an  only 
child,  on  account  of  his  affinity  to  an  unfortunate  man, 
who,  had  he  been  monarch  of  the  globe,  would  have 
laid  his  crown  at  Beatina's  feet. 

I  leave  my  native  land  to-morrow,  in  order  to  folicit 
Ferdinand  of  Spain  to  grant  me  the  vclfeh.  and  fupplics 
necefTary  for  proiecuting  my  intended  voyage.  1  am 
told  the  court  of  Spain  is  more  enlightened  than  any 
other  court  in  Europe. 

I  had,  previous  to  my  quitting  you,  found  means  to 
lay  my  plans  before  the  Britiih  throne  ;  but  I  fear  they 
wcre  treated  as  the  project  of  a  vifionary  ;  for  though 
my  brother  undertook  the  charge,  I  have  received  no 
aafwer.  Alas !  Beatina,  how  hard  it  is  to  combat 
any  received  prejudice.  The  wife  and  learned  men 
of  pad  ages  have  held  it  impoflible  for  mariners  to  find 
a  palfage,  or  proceed,  without  incurring  immediate 
death,  beyond  certain  boundaries  which  their  confined 
knowledge  has  marked  out.  But  I  will  not  be  with- 
held from  the  experiment.  If  I  fucceed,  after  ages 
will  revere  my  name  ;  if  I  fail,  it  will  fink  quietly  into 
oblivion;  or  perhaps  i'ome  iuture  genius,  enterpriling 
and  fanguine  as  myielf,  fliall  drop  a  tear  to  my  mem- 
ory, and  as  he  laments  my  fate,  tremble  for  his  own. 
Adieu,  my  friend,  my  lovely  Comforter.  1  am  more 
yours  than  my  own.    '  '•       C.  COLUM 

After  this,  feveral  letters  wore  perufed  by  Columbia, 
which  contained  little  more  than  a  repetition  of  his  at- 
tachment to  Beatina,  and  accounts  of  his  unfuccefsful 
applications  to  Ferdinand,  the  then  reigning  king  of 
Spain.  At  length  the  following  called  up  all  her 
attention. 

Columbus   to   Beatina. 

May,  14?;. 

CONGRATULATE  me,  my  lovely  friend  ;  I  am 

at  length  fuccefkml !     How  have  I  counted  the  tedious 

months  that   kept  me   from  my  foul's  idol ;  and  how 

often  have   I  feared  that  my  perfeverancc  would  be  cf 

no 


if>        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  •  *, 

no  avail,  and  that  I  had  facriliccd  ages  of  real  happi- 
nefs  (for  hours  are  ages  to  the  heart  that  loves  as  mine 
does)  to  the  vifionary  hopes  of  future  greatnefs.  But 
I  am  fuccefsful.  I  ftia.ll  explore  thofe  diftant  fcas,  with 
which  my  Ihidies  have  fo  well  acquainted  me,  and  in 
lame  unknown  world  feel:  out  a  kingdom  of  which  my 
Beatina  flia.ll  be  queen.  Yes,  you  ihall  be  queen  ;  for 
whatfoever  world  I  mid,  be  it  the  faireft,  greatcft,  or  the 
bed  the  fun  ever  fhone  on,  no  man  mould  ever  claim  a 
right  to  govern  it.  For  it  is  to  a  woman  I  owe  the 
means  of  making  the  great  attempt.  I  am  fo  overjoy- 
ed I  cannot  p.oceed  methodically ;  yet  I  know  you 
languifh  to  learn  every  particular  that  concerns  your 
Columbus. 

I  have  in  former  letters  informed  you  of  my  hitherto 
fraillefs  felicitations.  Wearied  by  attendance  on  min- 
iiters  and  creatures,  who  hung  about  the  king  like  bees 
upon  the  fweet  fcabious,  draining  it  of  its  vital  moifture 
till  its  very  root  decayed,  when  they  returned  to  their 
hives  laden  with  the  precious  ftore,  regardlefs  of  the  dy- 
ing ftate  of  the  flower  from  which  they  had  extracted 
both  life  and  health  ;  difguiled  with  their  unmeaning 
prcfeffions,  their  hypocrify  and  ftupidity,  I  had  nearly 
relinquifhcd  the  undertaking,  when  I  one  morning  re- 
ceived an  order  to  attend  the  queen's  private  drawing- 
room.  You  may  fuppofe  I  did  not  hefitate  to  obey  the 
fummons.  The  royal  Ifabelle  received  me  with  affa- 
bility and  encouraging  fweetnefs  ;  fhe  condefcended  to 
confer  with  me  on  my  intended  voyage,  and  on  the 
ftudies  which  led  me  to  hope  for  fuccefs.  She  lit 
tened  with  attention  to  my  reafons,  and  bade  me  attend 
the  levee  next  morning.  I  went.  My  royal  patronefs 
urged  my  fuit  to  the  king  with  all  the  earneftnefs  of 
periuafive  eloquence.  He  lillened  ;  but  it  was  with 
cold,  almoft  contemptuous  filence.  Yet  was  fhe  not 
difmayed  ;  her  fine  features  glowed  with  enthufiafm,  as 
fhe  expreffed  a  prophetic  affurance  of  fuccefs.  Her  in- 
terceffions  were  finilhed  with  this  heroic  declaration  : — 
"  If  your  majefty,"  faid  fhe,  "  conceives  the  plan  too 
wild,  too  eccentric  to  be  countenanced,  by  ordering  this 
cnterpriiing  man  the  ncceflary  fupplies  from  the  public 

trcafury  ; 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  17 

trcafury  ;  and  if  your  own  private  purfe  will  not  at 
prefent  allow  of  fo  large  a  dilburfement,  fuffer  me  to 
raife  the  money  on  my  own  perfonal  jewels.  I  befeech 
your  majefty  do  not  fay  me  nay.  I  want  no  ornaments 
to  render  me  pleafmg  to  my  fovereign,  and  will  cheer- 
fully part  with  them,  to  benefit  his  fixbje&s,  or  add  to 
his  territories." 

Struck  with  the  magnanimity  of  the  propofal,  Ferdi- 
nand could  no  longer  refufc  ;  he  gave  immediate  or- 
der, for  the  equipment  of  a  fleet,  in  which  I  am  to  pro- 
ceed on  my  intended  difcovery  ;  and  a  fum  of  money 
is  to  be  paid  to  me  from  the  treaiury,  to  provide  cvery 
nccefTary  for  the  voyage. 

I  fell  at  the  feet  of  the  royal  Ifabelle,  and  kifled,  with 
grateful  tranfports,  the  hem  of  her  garment.  She 
gracioufly  raifed  me,  and  with  a  fmile  of  heavenly  be- 
nignity aifured  mc,  that  you,  my  Beatina,  and  our  dar- 
ling l'erdinando,  fliould  be  taken  under  her  immediate 
protection.  H  aften  then,  my  dearelt,  on  the  receipt  of 
this  ;  haften  to  Spain,  and  let  me  introduce  you  to  our 
auguft  queen.  I  know  you  will  partake  my  joy  ;  and 
if  a  tear  does  ft  irt  at  the  thought  oi'  parting,  I  alio 
know  you  will  wipe  it  off  unfeen,  left  it  Ihould  unman 
the  heart  of  your  adoring  COLUMBUb. 

"  Undaunted  fpirit  of  my  ar.ccftor,"  cried  Colum- 
bia, as  ihe  clofed  the  If  ttcr,  "  may  you  ever  inhabit  the 
bofoms  of  his  defcenjints."  "  But  what  is  the  next 
letter  ?"  faid  Cora.  She  opened  it,  but  it  was  only  a 
farewcl  to  Beatina,  when  he  was  ready  to  fail  from 
Cadiz  ;  and  by  it  Columbia  difovered  that  ladv  ami 
her  lbn  were  retained  in  the  Spanifh  court  under  the  im- 
mediate protection  of  Ifabelle.  The  next  was  a  large 
(jacket,  and  of  fuch  a  nature  as  could  not  be  haftily  or 
Sightly  pa!ied  over. 

Laeelle,     queen   of    Spain,     to     Beatina,    ivife    to 
Columbus. 

L*j'oruary,  149.1, 
THOU  bofom  friend  of  the  braveft  man  that  ever 
lived,  thy  queen  now  claims  thee  as  her  friend  and  fil- 
ter.    Ifabelle   is  in  affliction,  and  calls  on  Beatina  to 
C  2  comfort 


18  REUBEN    akd    RACHEL;  or, 

comfort  her.  Yet  how  can  I  afk  comfort  from  you> 
when  I  have  none  to  offer  in  return  ?  I  cannot  fee 
you,  lelt  you  curfe  the  hand  that  fupplied  the  means 
for  this  ill-Marred  voyage.  Our  Columbus,  the  man 
whole  name  (hall  be  revered  while  time  endures,  is  no 
more  !  He  fleeps  in  the  vaft  ocean  ;  but  his  memory 
ih.il!  live  forever. 

Did  I  fay   I  had  no  comfort  to  offer  ?    Alas  !   my 
regrets  for  his  lofs  were  fo  great,  I  forgot  that  he   tri- 
umphed ere   he   died.     He    found   the  wondrous  un- 
known world   he  fought ;  but  his  own  words  will  belt 
tell    his  fuccefs.     The   inclofed  was  brought  to  our 
court  this  morning  by  a  fea   captain,  who,  whilft  yet 
far  from  the  Spaniih  coaft,  faw  fomething  floating  on 
the  waves  ;  and  feeling  an  awakened  curiofity  prompt 
him,  went  a  little  out  of  his  courfe  to   take  it  up.     It 
was    a   cafk  painted   white.       On   opening    it,    they 
found    this   fad  teftimony  of    our    fatal  lofs,   inclof- 
ed in  a  cake  of  wax,  and  furrounded  by  a  quantity  of 
cork,  in  order,   as  is   imagined,   to  facilitate  its  fwim- 
ming.     I  am  inadequate  to  the  tafk  of  adding  more  ; 
only  to  fay,  when  you  can  fee  me  without  dalrefs   to 
yourfelf,  come  to  me,   and  let  us  mingle  our  tears  to- 
gether.    Bring   Ferdinando  with  you  ;  henceforth  he 
is  my  fon.     Farewel.  ISABELLE. 

Inclofed  in  the  foregoing. 

Columbus  to   his  royal  Mistress. 

At  fea,  December,  149a. 
Royal  and  revered  Lady, 
THE  molt  humble  and  grateful  of  your  fervants 
addreffes  you  at  a  moment,  when  he  much  fears  he 
ihall  never  again  behold  you.  I  am,  with  my  little 
convoy,  in  a  boifterous  and  almoft  unknown  fea,  at  a 
lcafon  of  the  year  when  ftovms  prevail,  and  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather  renders  our  fafety  extremely 
precarious.  The  clouds  hang  low  ;  the  atmofphere  is 
thick;  the  hollow  murmuring  fea,  and  bleak  wind 
that  whiftles  through  the  Tigging,  portends  an  ap- 
proaching ftevm.  fl^l 


TALES    of     OLD    TIMES.  19 

I  (Kail  not  fulfil  my  duty  to  the  mod  gracious  of 
fovereigns,  if  I  do  not  try  feme  method  to  inform  her, 
whatever  may  be  my  fate,  her  withes  arc  fulfilled. 
The  new,  the  hitherto  unexplored  world,  of  which  I 
fondly  dreamed  lb  many  anxious  years,  is  at  length 
difcovered  !  I  (hall  annex  to  this  the  courfeby  which 
1  fleered,  the  foundings  as  v;c  approached  the  land, 
and  every  requiiite  direction  for  mariners  to  find  the 
place  where  I  have  left  a  little  colony  of  forty  men. 

Our  voyage  from  Spain  was  tedious  in  the  extreme, 
and  tliofe  who  had  not  the  fame  internal  aflurances, 
which  my  inteni'e  ftudy  had  given  me,  of  our  being  in 
a  right  courfe,  were  almoft  tempted  to  mutiny,  to 
confine  me,  and,  taking  command  of  the  fleet,  return 
to  Spain  ;  but  to  my  inexprefiible  joy,  when  even  my 
own  fpirits  began  to  fail,  nor  could  I  longer  have  li- 
lenced  the  fears  of  the  mariners,  on  the  morning  of 
the  1 2th  of  October,  I  difcovered  land.  We  made 
for  the  more,  and  on  the  15th  landed  and  took  poficf- 
fion  of  a  beautiful  fertile  ifland,  in  the  name  c(  your 
auguft  eonfort  Ferdinand.  I  kified  the  ground  as  I 
landed,  and  called  it  St.  Salvadcra,  in  honour  of  my 
gracious  patronefs ;  for  her  bounty  relieved  me  when 
I  was  in  utter  defpair  of  ever  making  the  attempt  of 
a  difcovcry,  and  the  fight  of  this  if  (erred   me 

from  the  vengeance  of  a  difappointed,  terrified  fet  of 
feamen,  who  thought  I  had  fooliihly  dragged  th.m 
from  their  friends  and  country  to  perifh  on  the  ocean. 
I  found  the  inhabitants  humane,  focial,  and  tractable  ; 
and  left  our  little  colony  in  a  ftatc  of  greater  comfort 
than  could  have  been  expected.  But  the  impclfibiiity 
of  obtaining  proper  provisions  for  the  long  voyage  be- 
fore us,  and  the  very  fragile  ftate  of  our  barques  to 
combat  feas  unufualiy  tempeduous  :t  this  fcafon,  ren- 
ders me  fearful  I  ihall  never  .  Spain,  or  kneel 
at  the  feet  of  my  royal  milcrefs. 

The  ifland  I  have  difcovered  yields  plenty  of  gold 
duft  ;  pearls  are  found  in  the  rivers  ;  and  from  what  I 
could  obferve,  diamonds  and  ether  precious  (tones  are 
eafily  procured.  For  the  natives  not  only  wear  them 
in  their  hair  and  about  their  necks,  but  decorate  their 

ten 


a c  RE U  C E N    a  n  d    R A C  H E ( . 

temples  with  them,  intermixed  with  gold  and  fitaer. 
Thefe   temples  are   in  general   dedicated  to  the 
which  i;  their  chit  -.     The  I 

are  performed  !>;.  priJteffes  who  tow   eternal 

virginity.  Their  men  are  tall  and  well  proportioned  ; 
the  women  beautiful  in  the  extreme. 

Thus  ha*  tly  tonchedoa  the  many  charms- 

to  entice  ray  fovereign  to  make  this  territory  her  own* 
Oh  may  die  wealth  its  mines  contain,  enrich  her 
above  all  her  cotemp.oraries ;  may  the  colony  ihe 
plants  increafc  and  fiouviih  ;  there  may  (lie  found  a 
ne'e,  a  glorious  world,  that  after  ages  fhall  at  ence  ad- 
mire and  fear.. 

And  now  that  life  perhaps  is  near  its  clofe,  will  my 
benignant  queen  permit  her  fervant  to  recommend 
once  more  to  her  protection,  my  wife  and  child  ?  Fcr- 
riinando  is  now  fifteen.  When  he  attains  the  age  of 
manhood,  let  him  purfue  the  path  I  have  marked  out, 
and  finifh  what  his  father  but  begun  ;  and  fhould  hi:; 
fearches  meet  with  the  fuccefs  my  lpirit  prophefies,  let 
the  new  world  be  called  Columbia.  It  will  unite  the 
name  of  Beatina  with  Columbus,  perpetuating  her  lov- 
ed name  with  mine. 

I  would  have  wrote-  to  my  beloved'  wife,  but  what 
could  I  fay  ?  My  heart  bleeds  for  what  fhe  will  fuffer. 
You,  my  gracious  miftrefs,  will  not  ibrfake  her.  Com- 
fort her,  confole  her  ;  tell  her  that  Beatina  will  be  the 
lad  found  that  trembles  on  my  lips.  Pardon  me,  fov- 
creign  lady,  my  ftyle  grows  familiar ;  but  the  grave 
levels  all  diftincYrons,  and  I  am  now  (banding  on  its 
brirA.  A  few  more  hours,  and  I  plunge  into  a  vaft 
eternity  !  If  the  ftorm  increafes,  my  vefiel  cannot  much 
longer  brave  its  fury  ;  if  mine  cannot,  what  will  be- 
come of  the  poo  little  caravels  that  accompany  me? 
Their  fate  is  certain  !  Royal  Ifabelle,  farewel.  While 
life  lingers  in  this  frail  tenement,  gratitude  for  thy 
munifkence  can  never  be  extinct  in  the  heart  of  thy 
fervant,  COLUMBUS. 

"  Noble,  brave  commander,"  cried  Columbia,  giving 
way  to  a  flood  of  tears  ;  "  and  was  this  thy  untimely 

end?" 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  n 

end  :'"  "  No,  no,"  faid  Cora  interrupting  her;  "he  made 
feveral  voyages  after  that,  or  eli'c  how  ihould  he  carry 
Don  Ferdinando  to  Peru  ?  He  did  not  die  till  after  the 
birth  of  Chriftopher  and  a  after  of  your  mother,  who  was 
chriftened  Ifabelle,  after  the  queen  of  Spain.  He  lived 
to  a  good  old  age,  and  was  hearty  and  well  till  mif- 
fortune  overtook  him  ;  then  lie  moped  and  pined  ;  nay, 
I  have  feen  him  weep  like  a  b.iby,  and  he  died  at  lalt 
broken  hearted."  wMore  ihame  for  thofe  who  could 
wound  a  heart  fo  noble,"  faid  Columbia,  vviiilic  refent- 
ment,  as  it  crimfoned  her  cheek,  dried  up  her  tears  ;  and 
fhe  proceeded  to  the  next  letter.  It  contained  an  ac- 
count of  Columbus's  fife  return.  After  having  encoun- 
tered innumerable  perils,  he  landed  at  Palos,  in  Spain, 
on  the  15th  of  March,  1493.  Alter  which,  feveral 
other  letters  announce  ano  rf-r  voyage,  in  which  he.  was 
more  fuccefsful  than  the  fini,  returning  laden  with  in- 
gots of  gold,  with  pearls,  with  diamonds,  and  immenfc 
plates  of  filver. 

But  his  fuccefs  and  the  homage  the  populace  feemed 
inclined  to  pay  him,  awakened  a  fpirit  of  envy  in  thofe 
who  had  at  finl  oppofed,  or  Created  as  the  chimeras  of 
a  difordered  fancy,  his  plans  for  the  difcovery  of  a  dis- 
tant continent.  They  had  not  time  to  bring  their 
to  ripen,  before  he  again  embarked  for  America, 
*  ith  a  large  company  of  volunteers,  gentlemen  of  the 
firft  rank  ia  Spain ;  amongit  which  was  his  own  fon,. 
Don  Ferdinando.  A  farewel  letter  from  this  young 
gentleman  to  his  mother,  was  the  lull  that  awakened 
Cora's  attention.  It  was  dated  in  June,  1498.  "That 
Was  the  time,"  laid  fhc,  "that  was  the  very  voyage,  which 
I  lb  well  remember."  "  Were  you  eight  years  old  then, 
Cora  ?"  faid  Columbia.  "Yes,  I  was  indeed,"  replied 
Cora,  "  but  1  remember  every  circumltance,  as  well  as 
if  it  had  parted  but  ycfterday  !"  "  Then  do  tell  me,  dear 
Cora,"  faid  Columbia,  "  tell  me  all ;  for  in  liftening 
to  the  recital  of  a  perfon  who  was  prefent  whilft  the 
events  they  relate  happened,  it  feems  as  if  you  were 
transported  to  the  very  fcene,  and  witnefs  to  the  inci- 
dents recited." 

CHAP. 


22  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;- ok, 

CHAP.    TV.- 
New  Scstifs,  new  Mai,  tie-iv  Manners- 

"TT  was  on  the  firtl  of  Auguft,"  faid  Cora,  draW- 
JL  ing  herfclf  forward,  whiUt  memory  feemed  upon 
the  llretch  to  rccal  events  lb  long  pail;  "it  was,  as  near  as 
T  can  recollect,  about  the  beginning  of  Angulc,  when  my 
mother,  who  was  chief  attendant  about  the  royal  chil- 
dren of  OrrozoHlbo,  king  of  Peru,  was  ordered  to  at- 
tend the  queen  and  her  children  to  a  palace  newly  built 
en  the  fea-coall,a  great  diftancc  from  the  capital.  I  (hall 
Sever  forget  it  ;  it  was  as  fine  a  morning  as  ever  I 
The  princefs  Orrabella  was  the  eldeft  of  in  e  daughters  ; 
for  my  royal  mailer  nevei  k  id  a  ion,  and  Ihc  was  look- 
ed upon  as  our  future  queen.  I  was  then,  as  I  told 
you,  but  eight  years  old,  quits  delighted  with  cur  new- 
habitation.  I  followed  the  princefs,  with  whom  I  was 
a  great  favourite,  from  one  apartment  to  another,  till 
we  reached  the  top.  There,  as  we  flood  looking  to- 
ward the  (eft]  we  faw  a  monftrous  fifh  or  bird,  for  it 
Was  impoflible  to  tell  which  it  was  ;  its-body  was  black, 
■vs  wings  white  ;  it  was  coming  quick  toward  the  fhore. 
The  princefs  (hrieked.  The  king  and  queen  had,  :rom 
a  lower  apartment,  obferved  the  fame  moniler  hafiily 
approaching  ;  ana  ordering  forth  the  guards, bade  them 
draw  up  on  the  beach,-  and  as  it  drew  near  difchurge 
their  arrows  at  it.  •  But,  Oh  terrible,  if  I  was  to  live  a 
thoufand  years,  I  never  (hall  forget  how  frightened  ev- 
ery creature  was,  when  the  huge  monfter,  drawing  quite 
near,  (lopped  on  a  hidden,  and  dropping  all  its  wings, 
a  Irurft  of  fire  and  fmoke  iflued  from  its  fide,  with  tre- 
mendous noife.  Many  fell  tc  the  earth  with  terror,  as 
this  dreadful  phenomena  was  repeated  three  times. 
When  our  fears  were  in  fome  meafure  abated,  we 
plainly  faw  living  creatures  move  upon  it,- and  foon 
a  fmaller  fifh  ol~  the  fame  kind,  only  without  wings, 
came  from  its  fide,  and  feveral  men  were  borne  by  it 
quite  to  the  fhore.  The  guards  affrighted,  dared  not 
diichargc  their  arrows,  but  let  their  bows  fall] .-and  gaz- 
ed in  filenl  vender.     The  king,  the  queen,  and  all  the 

rota! 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  23 

royal  children  were  {landing  on  the  fhore.  The  prin- 
cei's  Orrabella  was  ever  brave  and  undaunted  ;  flie  Hood 
leaning  on  my  mother's  arm,  the  foremoft  of  them  all. 
I  had  hid  my  face  m  he:-  robe  :  but  though  afraid  to  look 
long  on  the  terrifying  objecr,  I  now  and  then  drew  it 
^ifide  to  peep  at  a  creature  fo  wonderful. 

"  But,  my  good  Cora,"  cried  Columbia,  rather  im- 
patient at  the  old  woman's  prolixity,  "  if  you  are  thus 
particular,  you  will  never  get  to  the  end  of  your  ftory. 
This  monitor,  as  you  c.eicribe  it,  I  fuppofe  was  the  fnip 
tliat  bore  the  great  Columbus  to  the  Peruvian  coaft  ; 
and  the  little  filh  vou  mention  was  the  boat  in  whicli  he 
landed." 

"  Well,  I  know  that,"  replied  Cora,  angrily  ;  "  bur 
I  like  to  tell  a  ftory  my  own  way.  If  I  am  not  allow- 
ed to  tell  all  the  particulars,  I  ihall  never  be  able  to 
tell  it  at  all."     Columbia  fmiled  and  was  filent. 

Cora  again  began,  but  lhe  io  often  interrupted  herfelf 
telling  the  fame  incidents  feveral  times  over,  and  dwell- 
ing on  each  with  a  tirefome  minutenefs,  that  Columbia. 
though  anxious,  could  fcarcely  command  her  atten- 
tion to  the  end  of  the  ftory.  From  it  ihc  gathered  the 
following  circumltances. 

Columbus,  though  he  had  made  two  voyages  before* 
one  when  he  difcovered  St.  Salvadora,  and  another  with 
relief  and  fupplies  for  the  colony  he  had  left  there,  had 
not  difcovered  the  part  of  the  American  continent  of 
which  Cora  was  a  native,  till  his  third  voyage  ;  when 
many  noblemen  and  cavaliers  from  the  court  of  Spain 
accompanied  him  in  his  expedition,  in  hopes  of  fharing 
at  once  the  glory  and  emolument  the  discoveries  were 
likely  to  produce.  Amongft  the  gallant  group  of  gen- 
tlemen was  Fcrdinando,  only  fon  of  Columbus.  He 
landed  with  his  father,  both  richly  habited  and  followed 
by  a  train  of  cavaliers  equally  gay.  With  white  Hags 
waving,  and  their  drawn  fv.ords  pointed  towards  the 
earth,  they  advanced  to  the  party  defcribed  by  Cora  to 
be  alfembled  on  the  lhorc.  Orrabella,  ftruck  with  the 
majeftic  yet  conciliating  mien  of  Columbus,  perhaps 
more  with  thcperlbn.il  beauty  and  elegant  deportment 
ol  Fcrdinando,  who  advanced  at  his  right  hana\preffed 

foi  ward 


2+  REUBEN    akd    RACHEL;  or, 

forward  to  meet  them ;  rind  with  a  countenance  at  once 
exprefiive  of  wonder,  admiration  and  timidity,  her 
right  arm  extended  feemcd  a  barrier  to  prevent  their 
approaching  her  parents  and  fiJlers,  whilft  laying 
her  left  hand  on  her  bread  Ihe  knelt  to  the  ground, 
railing  her  fine  eyes  in  token  of  fupplication.  Ferdi- 
nftndo  raffed  her,  laid  his  fword  at  her  feet,  and  throw- 
ftring  of  heads  about  her  neck,  told  her,  in  the 
language  of  nature,  which  is  alike  imderftood  in  all 
nations,  that  lhe  had  nothing  to  "fear. 

Orrozombo,  aflured  ot'  their  friendly  intentions,  re- 
ceived them  cordially,  and  ihewed  them  every  mark  of 
hofpitality.  They  reftded  on  die  continent  many 
months,  collecting  ingots  of  pure  gold,  bars  of  iilver, 
with  pearls,  diamonds  and  coral,  forming  the  mod 
Wealthy  cargo  ever  borne  into  a  Spaniih  port. 

During  the  time  Columbus  and  his  followers  tarried  at 
the  Peruvian  court,  Ferdinando  had  numberlefs  oppor- 
tunities of  improving  the  favourable  impreflion  his  firil 
appearance  made  on  the  lovely  Orrabella.  He  foon  in- 
(triivfbed  her  in  the  Spaniih  tongue ;-  and  with  equal 
facility,  became  himfelf  a  proficient  in  her  native  lan- 
guage. He  found  her  pofTeifed  of  ftrong  powers  of 
mind,  quick  perception,  ready  wit;  in  fliort,  an  under- 
ftanding  capable  of  the  higheft  improvement.  The 
mutual  paifion  that  fubfifted  between  them  was  early 
discovered,  and  encouraged  by  their  parents.  Colum- 
bus looked  forward  to  the  union  as  a  mean  of  infuring 
wealth  and  power  to  his  pofterity,  and  Orrozombo  im- 
agined, by  reiigning  his  daughter  to  this  young  flranger, 
he  fecured  to  himfelf  a  powerful  friend  and  ally  in  Co- 
lumbus. For  the  Spaniards  had  taught  his  fubjects 
many  of  the  ufeful  arts  ;  and  Science,  by  their  means, 
began  to  unfold  her  beauties  to  the  delighted  monarch 
and  his  court. 

Upon  their  maTriage,  Orrozombo  gave  up  part  of  his 
territories  to  Columbus,  as  a  portion  for  his  daughter  ; 
and  a  colony  was  begun,  where  every  thirg  was  regu- 
lated according  to  the  Spanifh  form  of  government. 

This  being  lettled  to  the  fatisfa<5tion  of  all  parties, 
the  adventurers  prepared  to  rcviiit  their  native  land; 

and 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  25 

and  the  royal  bride  of  Ferdinando  determined  to  go 
with  her  hufband.  Several  of  her  attendants  were  ap- 
pointed to  accompany  her ;  amongft  whom  was  the 
mother  of  Cora,  who  at  the  princefs's  requeft  took  her 
daughter  with  her.  With  many  tears  did  Orrabella 
quit  her  parents  and  filters  ;  tears  which  feemed  to 
forebode  they  would  never  meet  again.  Alas!  Avarice 
had  difcovered  this  new  world  was  an  inexhauftibla 
mine  of  wealth  ;  and,  not  content  to  (hare  its  bleflings 
in  common  with  the  natives,  came  with  rapine,  war  and 
devastation  in  her  train  :  And  as  ihe  tore  open  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  to  gratify  her  iniatiate  thirit  fox 
gold,  her  fteps  were  marked  with  blood. 

..<.*..<..<.  <,^*>.f.£$»-  ►  •>■  ►•  ►■• 

CHAP.       V, 

Ingratitude  and  Perfidy. 

THE  (hip  in  which  Ferdinando  and  his  bride  en.- 
barked  was  deftincd  to  proceed  immediately  to 
Spain  ;  but  Columbus  himfelf,  in  a  final]  caravel,  deter- 
mined to  crofs  over  to  Hifpaniola,  and  vilit  a  colony 
which  now  began  to  wear  a  very  Mounding  appearance. 
Many  families  had  emigrated  from  Spain,  fome  of  con- 
fiderable  diftinclion  ;  and  Columbus  had,  previous  to 
f.is  embarkation,  folicited  the  government  of  this  colo- 
ny for  an  indigent  friend,  hoping  he  might  in  the  new 
world  retrieve  his  ruined  fortunes.  It  was  partly  a 
wiih  to  fee  how  his  intention  fuccceded,  that  prompted 
him  to  vilit  Hifpaniola  at  this  time.  The  reception  he 
met  with,  and  the  manner  of  his  return  to  Spain,  Co- 
lumbia found  in  the  following  letter. 

Columbus  to  his  Sen  Ferdinando. 

Cadiz  Harbour,  1499. 

THY  father  is  returned,  my  dear  fon,  returned  to  his 

native  land.      13ut  how  ?    Not  as  an  enterprifing  fpirit 

whole    plans   had    proved  fuccefsful,    mould    return  ; 

but  as   a    traitor  to  his   king,   loaded  with  ignomin- 

D  ious 


^6  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ious  chains.  Oh  !  my  brave  boy,  I  fee  thy  noble 
fpirit  fire  at  the  intelligence.  But  beware  ;  conceal 
the  workings  of  thy  honeft  foul.  To  profper  in  this 
ungrateful  world,  you  mull  wear  the  raafk  of  hypoc- 
rify  ;  wear  the  femblance  oi  humility,  henefty, 
patriotism,  till  you  have  obtained  fome  favourite  point, 
then  throw  them  allele  as  ufelefs,  and  glory  in  the  fuc- 
cefs  of  your  ftratagems. 

Pardon  me,  my  fori,  I  write  from  the  impulfe  of  a 
broken  heart.  1  know  you  would  lcorn  inch  advice  if 
ferioufly  given,  even  from  a  father  ;  but  I  have  fuller- 
ed fo  much  from  ingratitude  and  duplicity,  and  have 
feen  thofe  who  praclifc  diem  moft,  fecm  to  fucceed  the 
bell,  that  I  would  willingly  ihut  my  eyes  on  the  light 
of  day,  and  fmk  into  eternal  relt.  My  dear  Ferdinan- 
do,  your  father  has  received  a  wound  no  time  can  heal. 
Surely  we  mull  hope,  that  in  the  bleil  abodes  of  immor- 
tality, the  foul  retains  no  remembrance  of  what  palled 
•i  ii  is  fublunary  ftate  ;  elfe  certain  I  am,  that  the  de- 
Hjghts  oi'paradife  itfelfwould.be  alloyed  by  the  retrof- 
pect  of  the  ignominy  I  have  endured,  and  the  chains  I 
have  worn. 

And  what  will  that  treafure  of  my  foul,  thy  adored 
mother,  fay  ?  How  will  my  Beatina  bear  the  degrada- 
tion of  her  Columbus  ?  AVill  net  her  father,  (but  lately 
reconciled  to  his  child)  again  fpurn  her  from  him  ? 
And  will  not  her  haughty  brothers  and  fillers  pour 
their  infolent  reproaches  on  the  wife  of  a  djfgraced,  a 
ruined  favourite  ?  Your  lovely  Orrabclla  too  !  Alas  ! 
I  greatly  fear,  whilft  wc  were  hofpitably  entertained  at 
her  father's  court,  we  were  ungratefully  paving  the 
way  for  the  introduction  of  war,  rapine  and  deftruc- 
tion.  Yet  witnefs,  ye  immortal  Powers,  I  am  inno- 
cent. I  fought  sot  new  worlds  for  c< 
power;  I  felt,  forcibly  felt,   the  bleflings  of  Chriilian- 

,   the  comforts   refulting  from  a  commercial 
courfe  with  other  nations.    1  vainly  thoughtthofe  ble£ 
fings  through  my  means  might  be  extended,  and  ear- 
ucilly  wilhed  them  participated  by   the  whple 
But  1  am  venting  the  forrows  of  my  agonize  J  foul, 
and  forget  you  are  a   11  nu  irliat  has  caul'cd 


TALES    ok    OLD    TIMES.  27 

them.     Oh  !  ever,  ever,  may  you  remain  a  ftranger 
to  fuch  anguifli.     iMay  my  fon  never  experience  how 
far  beyond  all  other  miferies  which  malice  can  inflict, 
or  human  nature  fuiFer,   is   the  torture   occalior. 
the  poifoncd  fting  of  ingratitude.     But  to  my  fad 

Light  pleafant  gales,  and  a  fmooth  fea  quickly  bore 
the  caravel  in  which  I  embarked  to  Hifpaniola. 
certain  emblem  of  the  vicitfitudes  ot  human  life  ;  for 
how  often  does  the  fun  of  profperity  gild  the  horizon, 
and  its  delightful  airs  play  around  and  fafcinate  the 
fenfes,  whilit  the  llorms  of  adverfity  hang  unob;. 
ready  to  burlt  on  our  devoted  heads. 

Roldan  (whom  you  muft  remember  was  appointed 
through  my  interceilion  to  die  government  of  this  colo- 
ony)  received  me  with  the  greatcft  marks  of  u 
and  a  profufion  of  compliments.  I  ought  to  have 
been  upon  my  guard  and  fufpecled  his  excefiivc  adula- 
tion. His  prefeffions  of  gratitude  and  attachment 
pained  me  ;  but  as  I  knew  the  preient  affluent  ftate  of 
himielf  and  family  originated  from  my  friendfhip,  I 
attributed  all  to  the  nobleft  motives,  nor  once  fufpecled, 
that  as  I  held  him  to  my  boibm  I  was  enfolding  a  fcr- 
pent  that  waited  but  an  opportunity  to  fting  me  to  the 
heart. 

The  morning  after  my  arrival  the  natives  thronged 
in  crowds  to  fee  me,  and  in  the  moil  tumultuous,  man- 
ner exprefied  their  joy  at  my  return.  Roldan,  with  an 
inlidious  fmile,  warned  me  to  beware  of  giving  them 
too  much  encouragement.  "  They  are,"  faid  he,  "  an 
encroaching  fct  of  wretches,  and  will  torment  you 
with  complaints,  which,  as  they  exift  only  in  their 
own  imaginations,  it  is  not  in  your  power  to  redrefs. 
You  had  better  fpeak  to  them  a  little  ftemly,  and  dif- 
mifs  them  to  their  homes." 

"  How  ?"  faid  I,  rather  furprifed,  !»  I  do  not  rightly 
underftand  you.  What  privilege  can  thefe  people  fo- 
licit  from  you  or  me,  which  they  have  net  a  ri?;ht  to 
demand  ?  Is  not  this  continent  theirs  by  right  of  na- 
ture ?  and  is  not  the  privilege  of  living  here  unmolcft- 
ed  enjoyed  by  us  through  their  unfufpeaing  good  na- 
ture, and  the  confidence  they  place  in  our  honeft  in- 
tentions ? 


28  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

teations?  and  (hall  we  abufe  this  confidence,  repay 
hofuitality  by  infringing  their  natural  rights  ? 
Heaven  forbid  !  If  they  have  complaints  to  make,  it 
is  our  duty  to  hear,  and  to  the  utmoft  of  our  power 
redrefs  them." 

As  I  tpoke  with  fervor,  I  obferved  the  countenance 
of  Roldan  change.  A  livid  palcncfs  overfpread  his 
face  ;  his  eyes  gleamed,  his  lips  trembled,  and  every 
feature  cxprefled  a  rage  which  he  in  vain  attempted  to 
conceal  by  a  haggard  fmilc. 

"  All  is  not  as  it  fhould  be,"  faid  I  mentally  ;  "  I 
will  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the  complaints  ha 
feems  io  anxious  to  evade.  If  Roldan  has  made  an 
I  v.fe  of  his  power,  it  is  not  our  pall  friend/hip 
ih. ill  fereen  him  from  my  reproach,  or  lead  me  to  con- 
tinue hhnin  a  Ration  .he  appears  inadequate  to  fill." 

Full  of  thefe  thoughts,  I  immediately  fet  an  inquiry 
on  foot  concerning  the  general  conduct  of  Roldan  and 
his  officers.  I  found  they  had  grofsly  abufed  the  pow- 
er intruded  to  them  ;  that  they  had  diftreffed  and 
treated  the  natives  in  many  cafes  with  the  utmoft  bar- 
barity !  and  that  this  arbitrary  governor  had  fupported 
the  Spaniards  in  every  act  of  injuftice  or  enormity  they 
chofe  to  commit. 

Having  traced  thefe  grievances  to  their  fource,  I 
requefted  a  council  might  be  called  ;  and  then,  in  the 
Uioft  forcible  language  I  could  think  of,  yet  with  tern- 
per  and  mildnefs,  I  reprefented  to  them  all  the  iniquity 
of  their  proceedings,  conjured  them  to  redrefs  the  in- 
juries they  had  committed,  and  to  reform  the  govern- 
ment. Some  few  icomed  pleaied  with  my  remon- 
ftrance,  but  the  greater  part  heard  me  in  fuller,  filcnce. 

Roldan  thanked  me  with  a  farcaftic  fmile  for  my 
advice  ;  but  at  the  fame  time  told  me  he  held  his  of- 
fice by  a  commiTion  from  the  royal  Ferdinand,  and 
to  him  only  was  accountable  for  his  actions.  I  was 
ihuaderftruck  by  his  fpeech  and  manner,  and  left  the 
council  room  in  a  perturbation  of  mind  not  ealily  de- 
scribed. 

.Amongft  the  officers  under  the   command  of  Rol- 
dan in  this  fettlemcnt,  was  a  young    man   of  diffa- 

lute 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  2; 

lute  manners,  named  Diego.  He  was  younger  fon  to 
a  noble  family  ;  but  having  difhpated  a  considerable 
fortune,  and  from  being  at  firft  only  weak  and  toolilli, 
having  become  vicious,  his  friends  thought  proper  t  •> 
folicit  employment  for  him  in  the  new  fettlcment,  and 
he  was  accordingly  appointed  third  in  command. 
This  man  I  found  the  bofom  confidant  and  privy 
counfellor  of  Roidan.  His  rapacity  knew  no  bounds; 
his  paflions  were  his  only  malter  ;  and  hurried 
them  to  dreadful  exceifes,  he  committed  crimes  at 
which  humanity  at  once  blufhed  and  trembled. 
Though  the  very  little  knowledge  I  had  of  Diego  had 
by  no  means  prejudiced  me  in  his  favour,  I  could  not 
have  fuppofed  lie  would  have  perpetrated  crime 
the  blackelt  die  without  compunction,  or  that  Roidan 
would  have  openly  dared  to  fanelion  his  licentioufnefs  ; 
but  I  Was  at  length  fatally  convinced,  that  when  vice 
ami  folly  are  leagued  together,  there  is  no  wickednefs, 
however  horrible,  at  which  they  will  hciilatc. 

Bnina  was  the  only  child  of  a  venerable  Indian, 
whole  poffeilions  were  extenfive  and  valuable.  I  had 
cultivated  a  friendfhip  with  the  father  of  Bruna,  when 
firfl:  the  fettlement  was  formed  ;  and  both  myfclf  and 
followers  experienced  from  him  the  kindnefs  and  at- 
tention which  nature,  when  unadulterated  by  art,  is  ever 
ready  to  offer  to  the  friendlefs,  or  the  ilranger.  His 
dwelling  Was  at  our  fervice  ;  he  fupplied  us  plentifully 
with  goat's  milk,  the  flefhofdecr,  dried  maize,  and 
other  comforts  of  life,  which,  to  men  who  had  expe- 
rienced a  tedious  and  wearifome  voyage,  were  real 
luxuries. 

Bruna  at  this  time  was  a  lovely  child  of  about 
twelve  years  old  ;  flic  was  wild  and  untutored  ;  but 
there  Was  fomething  fo  engaging  in  her  manner,  (fo 
iafcinating  in  her  vivacity,  that  I  could  not  fee  her 
daily  without  becoming  inlcniibly  attached  to  her. 
Her  cttridfity  was  unbounded  ;  and  the  l'ureil  way  to 
become  a  favorite  with  her,  was  by  gratifying  a  pro- 
penlity  which  in  general  was  directed  to  laudable  ob- 
jects. 1  was  charmed  with  her  aitlets  third  for  knowl- 
edge, and  employed  my  lcifure  moments  in  intruding 
D  2  her! 


30  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

her.       But  Chough  eager  to  learn,  that  very  eagernefs 
counteracted  her  willies.     She  was  too  haity  and  im- 
petuous to  allow   herfelf  fuiheient  time  to   become   a 
proficient   in  any  thing  ;   therefore   all  my   attention 
could  do,  was  to  give  her  a  trifling  knowledge  of  the 
Spanifti  language,     For  when  I  fpoke  to  Ler  of  the 
cufloms  and   manners    of  the    European    world,    ihe 
would  laugh,  and  declare   her  own   country    manners 
were  beA ;  for  lhe  could  not  poflibly  think  any  duty 
obliged  us  to  conceal,  our   thoughts,,  or  that  any  cuf- 
tom  whatever  could  make,  it  laudable   to  fpeak  one 
rhing  and  think  another.     I  give  yoti  this  flight  (ketch 
qf  her  character,  that  you  might  not  be   furprifed  at 
what  I  have  to  relate  concerning   this  Indian  heroine,. 
It  was  about  ten  days   after  my   arrival,  as  I  wag 
walking  a  few  miles  from  the  plantation,  and  remarkv 
ing  the  improvement  agriculture  had  made  on  the  face 
of  this  beautiful  fertile   continent,  when  in. a  low-built 
hovel  I  faw  an   ancient  Indian  feated  on  the  ground  ; 
Iiis  elbows   relied  on   his    knees,  his   hands  clafped  his  . 
forehead,  as  his  head  reclined  upon  them.     I  Aoppcd 
for  a  moment  to  contemplate  a  figure  fo  finking  ;  and 
as   I  paufed,  the  fighs    that  broke  from  his  agitated 
bofom,  went  to  my  very  heart.     The  noife  I  undefign- 
..dly  made  as   I  moved   nearer  the  hovel,   cccafioued. 
him  to   raife  his  head.     I   was   amazed  ;  it  was  the 
lather  of  Bruna  !  He  gazed  for  a  moment  eagerly  upou 
me;  then  fpringir.g  forward,  fell   on  his   knee:.,  kiiltd 
my   hands,  my  feet,,  the  very  hem  of  my   garments. 
In  vain  I   attempted  to  raife  him  ;  he  prufirated  him- 
felf  on  the  earth,  and  laid  my  hand  upon  his  head,   in 
token  of  owning  me  for  his  mafier. 

Bray  life,  my  worthy  friend,,  faid  I,.,  and  tell  me 
what  is  the  meaning  of  this  humiliation  ?  who  has 
cauied  the  thai. go  I  perceive  to  have  taken  place  in 
.your  circiimfiances  ? 

"  Chriftiuns  !  ChriAians  !"  replied  he  with  vehe- 
mence, gnafhing  Ids  teeth  as  he  fpoke,  "  they  have 
plundered  me  of  my  wealth,  torn  my  child  from  my 
•irms  ;  but   yo  •   are  come,  and  I  fhall   be  revenged."' 

The 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  $i 

The  confidence  this  poor  Indian  feemed  to  have  in  my 
integrity,  filled  my  eyes  with  tear;., 

"  Yes,"  laid  I,  "  tell  me  who  has  treated  yea  thus- 
barbaroufly  ;  and  if  I  have  the  power,  you  lhall  have 
ample  reftitution."  "  Alas  !"  cried  the  old  man,  "  of 
what  avail  will  be  the  rellitution  o{  my  wealth,  unleirv 
you  can  reltore  my  child,  my  darling  to  my  arms 
pure  and  unfpotted  ?" 

He  then  informed  me  that  foon  after  aie  arrival  of 
Roldan  at  the  fettlcment,  an  entire  change  took  place 
in  the  government;  vice  was  tolerated,  private  proper- 
ty not  in  the  leail  regarded,  but  every  thing  fubjec'ted 
to  the  lawlcfs  power  of  the  new  governor  and  his 
favourite 

Diego  faw  Bruna  ;  her  beauty  kindled  in  his  bofom 
an  unholy  flame;  he  folicited  her  love  and  was  rejected, 
lie  dared  attempt  her  chaflity,  and  was  repulf.d  with 
fconi.  That  moment  fealed  the  ruin  of  her  lather. 
Diego  complained  to  Roldan,  that  the  father  of  Bruna 
refuted  to  lubmit  to  the  Spanilli  laws,  and  had  even 
treated  him  with  contempt  and  derilion,  who  had  en- 
deavoured to  enforce  them.  Roldan,  glad  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  gratify  his  ruling  paflion,  whi«h  was  avarice. 
gave  ear  to  the  complaint  of  his  favourite  ;  and  driv- 
ing the  unoffending  Indian  from  a  home  he  had  in- 
herited from  his  ancelfors,  fetzed  on  all  his  valuable 
property,  ofleniibly  in  the  name  of  the  Spanish  King, 
but  in  leality  to  enrich  his  own  private  qoffi 

Bruna,  unknowing  to  what  danger  fhe  expofed  her- 
felf,  and  thinking  this  piece  of  injuitice  was  entirely  the 
act  of  Diego,  flew  to  the  governoi  for  redreis.  Her  tears, 
her  innocent  Amplications,  had  no  effect  on  the  obdu- 
rate heart  of.  Roldan!  he  inhumanly  rejected  her  fuit, 
detained  her  perfon,  and  gave  her  into  the  power  of 
Diego.  This  horrid  fcene  was  acted  but  the  day  be- 
fore my  arrival. 

"  You  (hall  have  juftice,  old  man,"  feid  I ;  "  come 
with  mc."  He  followed  me  to  the-haufe  of  the  gov- 
ernor. At  fight  of  him,  Roldan  llarted  and  turned  pale  ; 
hut  foon  recovering  himfelf,  he  aflced  him,  in  a  ilern 
voice,  what  he  did  there.     "  He   comes  for  juflice," 

faid 


32  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

faid  I,  "  he  comes  to  demand  reftitution  of  his  prop- 
erly, of  which  he  has  been  robbed,  and  his  daughter, 
who  is  unjuftly  detained  from  him/'  "  The  artful 
wretch  has  impofed  on  you,"  faid  Roldan  fiercely, 
*  but  go,  flave,"  turning  to  the  Indian,  get  from  my 
fight,  and  be  thankful  your  infolencc  does  not  coll  you 
your  life.  I  was  preparing  to  reply  in  a  proper 
manner  to  this  inhuman  tyrant,  when  Bruna  rufhed 
into  the  apartment,  her  hair  dilhevelled  her  garments 
disordered,  and  her  eyes  wild  with  terror.  She  threw 
herfclf  into  her  father's  arms,  and  gave  way  to  a  vio- 
lent gufli  of  tears  ;  but  the  tendernefs  that  feemed  to 
overcome  her  was  but  momentary.  She  recovered 
herfelf,  and  raifing  her  head,  looked  round  with  a 
kind  of  fullen  dignity.  Her  eyes  met  mine.  Per- 
ceiving (he  knew  me,  I  offered  her  my  hand,  and  was 
proceeding  to  comfort  her  ;  but  with  a  rejecting  mo- 
tion, fhe  put  back  my  proffered  hand,  and  covering 
her  face  with  both  her  own,  turned  from  me.  1  in- 
ilantly  comprehended  the  extent  of  the  injury  fhe  had 
fuilained,  and  my  foul  fhuddered  within  me. 

Roldan's  agitation  was  too  great  to  efcapc  notice  ; 
he  attempted  twice  to  fpeak,  but  words  were  denied 
him.     His  pale  countenance  betrayed  his  guilty  heart. 

At  length  he  hefitatingly  told  Bruna,  if  that  was 
her  father,  and  fhe  had  forcibly  been  detained  from 
him,  fhe  was  now  at  liberty  to  return  home.  The 
poor  girl  flood  for  a  moment  the  image  of  mute  def- 
pair ;  then  raifing  her  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven,  cried, 
*'  Home  !  No  !  never  \  Bruna  is  the  daughter  of  the 
chafle  Lilah,  and  was  inflrudted  by  the  wife  precepts 
of  her  father,  to  prize  her  honour  above  her  life.  rl  'heir 
manfionwas  the  dwelling  of  innocence,  piety,  and  vir- 
tue; and  never  will  their  wretched  daughter  cany  pollu- 
tion thither."  Then  turning  toward  her  father,  ihc 
made  as  though  fhe  would  have  embraced  him  ;  but 
with,  a  kind  of  involuntary  ihudder,  ihrunk  again  from 
him,  and  drawing  a  dagger  fhe  had  concealed  in  her 
bofom,  plunged  it  in  her  heart. 

This  Hidden,  unexpected  event  threw  the  governor 
and  all  his  attendants  into  the  iitnioll  eonfttfien'. 
The    fen-ants,    terrified,    opened  the    doors  ;    and    a 

coiu  . 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  33 

concourfe  of  people,  Spaniards  as  well  as  natives, 
ruihed  in.  The  bleeding  form  of  the  lovely  Bruna,  the 
agonizing  fofrow  of  her  father,  acted  like  a  talifman 
on  the  minds  of  the  people  ;  and  in  .1  few  hours  the 
whole  fettlement  was  in  a  Hate  of  inlurre«5Hon.  Juf- 
tice  J  judice  !  was  the  cry  :  Deliver  up  Diego  to  our 
power,  or  we  will  extirpate  the  race  of  Chriltians  horn 
among!!  us.  Roldan  in  this  exigence  applied  to  me 
to  quiet  the  enraged  multitude.  I  fpoke  to  them  :  I 
promifed  they  ihouid  have  ample  iuttice !  I  foothed  them 
by  {peaking  of  the  virtues  of  Bruna,  and  execrating 
the  author  of  her  ruin,  and  consequent  death  ;  and  at 
length  pevfuaded  them  to  depart  quietly  to  their  homes; 
alluring  them  that  Diego  was  in  confinement,  and 
ihouid  be  made  to  fuffer,  to  the  extent  of  the  law,  the 
punifhment  due  to  his  crimes. 

After  a  day  of  fuch  unufual  agitation,  I  retired  to 
my  apartment.  Fatigued  in  body,  and  diftre/Ted  in 
mind,  fleep  was  a  ftranger  tc  my  c  yes,  and  I  was  rumi- 
nating en  the  beft  means  to  a^peafe  the  irritated na: ivei, 
when  a  band  of  Roldan's  guards  entered  my  cham- 
ber, and  arretted  me  as  a  traitor  to  ray  king,  accufed 
me  cf  being  difaffected  to  his  government,  and  inflam- 
ing the  minds  of  his  fubjects  :n  Hifpaniola  to  rebel- 
lion. Refiftance  or  remonftrance  was  vain;  they  wore 
the  tools  of  arbitrary  power,  and  I  fubmitted  infilence. 
They  manacled  my  hands  and  feet,  and  putting  a 
gag  in  my  mouth,  conveyed  me  on  board  a  veflel  ly- 
ing in  the  harbour.  Yes,  Ferdinando,  your  i. 
Was  chained,  and  fent  to  his  native  country  as  a  traitor. 

As  foon  as  I  was  on  board,  and  the  guard  departed, 
I  found,  by  the  motion  ot  the  veffel,  we  were  under 
way;  the  wind  was  fair,  and  ihe  left  the  lhores  cf 
Hifpaniola  with  rapidity. 

About  two  hours  after  daylight,  the  captain  entered 
the  cabin  where  I  was,  and  entreated  my  pardon  for 
having  been  obliged  to  acl  contrary  to  his  inclinations. 
'*  I  am  but  a  fervarit,"  laid  he,  "  and  mult  obey  thole 
whom  the  king  has  fet  over  me.  I  am  ordered  to 
keep  you  a  dole  prifoner  till  our  arrival  in  Spain  ; 
but  lure  I  ihull  dare  to  tranfgreis  my  orders  fa  fur  as 

to 


j4  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  oR, 

to  releafe  you  from  your  chains."  He  then  advanced 
to  take  off  the  infulting  badges  of  my  dilgrace,  but  I 
forbid  him.  "  No,  Don  Sancho,"  laid  I,  "  if  I  am 
guilty,  I  will  fuffer  the  fentence  my  fovcreign  may 
think  proper  to  pais  on  me  with  refutation.  If  I 
have  been  unjuftly  accuied,  to  him  do  I  look  for  re- 
drefs  ;  into  his  preience  will  I  go,  loaded  with  theie 
ignominious  bonds,  and  when  my  innocence  is  proved, 
from  his  hands  only  will  I  accept  of  liberty.'' 

Hailen  then,  my  dear  fon,  on  the  immediate  receipt 
of  this,  to  my  royal  miilrcfs  and  patronefs  ;  deliver 
to  her  own  hand  the  inclofed  few  lines  ;  and  ihould 
fhe  condefcendto  requelt  it,  lay  the  contents  of  this 
letter  befo*e  her.  Comfort  and  confole  your  angel 
mother  ere  you  leave  her.  Embrace  your  charming 
wife  for  me.  Whilft  1  live,  you  fhare  my  heart  amongit 
you.  The  ftrong  fenfe  I  have  of  my  prefent  injuries, 
is  only  for  your  lakes  ?  for  of  what  confequence  would 
the  fmiles  or  frowns  of  princes  be  to  me,  were  not  my 
wife  and  children  to  be  involved  in  my  difgrace,  or  ex- 
alted by  my  fuccefs  and  honour.  Haften,  my  fon,  af- 
ter you  have  fulfilled  this  commiffion,  to  the  arms  of 
your  father  ;  come,  my  brave  boy,  and  by  a  filial  tear 
heal  the  anguifh,  which  at  prefent  corrodes  the  heart  of 

COLUMBUS. 

..«..<.<..<  .«^e*,.j.£ji>..>  >. •>■  >.. 

CHAP.     VI. 

Rctrlhutioii. 

COLUMBIA  could  only  paufe  for  a  moment  to 
wipe  off  the  tears  which,  ipitc  of  her  endeavours 
to  fupprefs  them,  would  rufli  to  her  eyes.  She  then 
proceeded  to  the  next  letter. 

Ferdinando   to   his  Mother. 

HAD  I  a  conveyance,  fwift  as  my  own  impatience, 
to  forward  to  my  revered  mother  the  joyful  tidings  of 
my  father's  triumph  over  his  enemies,  the  wings  of 

the 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  35 

the  wind  would  be  too  tardy  to  bear  this  to  your  hands. 
Yes,  my  dear  mother,  Columbus,  the  great,  the  enter- 
prizing  Columbus,  is  reftored  to  all  his  former  dignity, 
and  even  frefh  honours  are  heaped  upon  him.  But  I 
know  you  wifh  me  to  be  particular  ;  and  how  can  I 
be  more  pleafingly  employed  than  in  recounting  the 
noble  conduct  of  a  father,  and  obeying  the  commands 
of  the  belt  of  mothers  ? 

When  in  obedience  to  my  father's  mandate  I  re- 
paired to  court,  and  requefled  an  audience  with  the 
royal  Iilabelle,  I  was,  within  a  few  hours  after  the  re- 
requeii  was  made,  admitted.  An  unufual  gloom,  al- 
approaching  to  leverity,  was  call  over  a  counte- 
.  which  heretofore  had  only  on  me  beamed  fmiles 
of  benevolence.  It  chilled  me  to  the  heart.  I  ap- 
proached with  extreme  agitation;  and,  bending  one  knee 
to  the  ground,  prefented  the  fealed  paper  which  was 
inclofed  in  my  father's  letter.  The  queen  paufed  for  a 
moment,  fcemingly  irrefolute  whether  or  not  to  break 
the  fcal.  My  agitation  increafed,  my  knees  trembled, 
my  heart  beat  violently.  My  .  diforder  did  not  pais 
unnoticed.  "  Calm  your  fears,  Ferdinando,"  faid  If- 
fabclle,.as  flic  at  length  opened  the  letter  ;  "  your  fath- 
er has,  it  is  true,  powerful  enemies ;  but  if  his  inno- 
cence is  apparent,  he  will  ever  find  in  me  a  Heady, 
powerful  friend."  1  bowed  in  grateful  acknowledge- 
ment oi'  her  goodnefs,  and  Hie  in  filence  perufed  the 
letter.  A  crimfon  glow  overfpread  her  face  as  (he  1  ead ; 
it  iccmed  the  glow  c  f  refentment,  as  folding  the  paper 
ilic  unlocked  a  fmall  cabinet,  .and  depofited  it  amongit 
fume  other  writings. 

**  You  have  a  letter  from  Columbus,"  faid  .fhe, 
"  permit  me  to  fee  it."  I  prefented  it.  "  Go,''  faid 
Hie,  taking  it  from  me,  "  retire  in  peace  ;  the  fuccefs  of 
.my  hero  has  awakened  the  envy  oi  thole  who  had  not 
courage  to  follow  his  example,  he  has  been  tlfc< 
to  the  king  ;  but  Ifabclie  wii  r  a  man,  whofe 

merit  lhe  eiieems  and  whofe  caufe  flic  eip-.-uies,  to  be 
injured  with  impunity." 

Charmed  by  thefecondefcendhg  cyprefHors,  I  bow- 
ed and  retired.     In  about  two  hour*,  1  received  a  man- 
date 


36  REUBEN    an j    RACHEL;  or, 

date  figned  by  the  queen's  hand,  ordering  me  to  repair 
immediately  to  the  port,  and  conduct  my  injured  fath- 
er to  her  prefence.  "Take  off  his  chains,"  were  the 
words,  "  and  let  him  come  to  his  fovereign,  attended 
with  all  the  refpect  and  honour  a  man  deferves,  who, 
whilft  he  was  adding  new  territories  to  our  crown, 
whilft  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  heap  up  mines  of  wealth 
for  his  own  coffers,  forgot  not  the  caufe  of  humanity, 
and  rather  than  countenance  one  act  of  tyranny,  haz- 
arded the  difpleafure  of  his  king,  the  lofs  of  his  fortune, 
nay  even  life  itfelf.   But  his  fovereign  ihall  reward  him." 

Her  majefty's  own  Servants  and  mules  attended  my 
commands  ;  and  quick  as  it  was  pofiiblc,  I  purfu'ed  my 
journey,  and  flew  to  the  arms  of  my  father.  Our 
meeting  was  beyond  defcription.  The  agitation  of  his 
mind  had  affected  his  health  ;  his  countenance  was  pale 
and  dejected  ;  his  perfon  neglected.  1  offered  to  take  off 
his  fetters,  fhewed  him  the  queen's  mandate,  but  in 
vain.  "  I  will  go  to  my  royal  miflrefs,"  faid  he,  "  but 
I  will  go  as  I  am."  When  he  law  the  fervants  that  at- 
tended to  conduct  him — "  Poor  pageantry,  "faid  he, 
"  pitiful  recompenfe  for  the  injuries  I  have  received  ! 
No  !  no  !  I  will  have  no  attendants.  I  am  a  difgraced 
man,  and  will  enter  the  metropolis  with  as  little  noife 
as  poflible  ;  obfeurity  and  lilencc  fuits  bed  with  dii- 
honour.  But  mark  me,  my  fon,  as  my  difgrace  has 
been  public,  fo  lhall  be  my  juftification."  There  was 
fuch  majelty  in  his  manner,  inch  fixed  rcfolution  in  his 
looks,  I  dared  not  oppofe  him.  I  difmiffed  the  retinue 
that  attended  ;  and  with  only  my  own  fervant,  accom- 
panied my  father,  by  the  moil:  unfrequented  roads,  to 
the  court  of  Ferdinand  and  Iiabelle. 

It  was  about  twelve  o'clock  when  we  arrived,  and 
orders  were  given  for  our  immediate  admiilion.  Never 
fhall  I  forget  the  countenance  of  the  royal  Iiabelle, 
when  fhe  beheld  her  hero  enter  thus  encumbered  with 
the  tcllimonies  of  his  difgrace.  The  king  and  queen  were 
fe:itcd  at  the  upper  end  of  the  prefence  chamber,  at- 
tended by  many  noblemen  and  cavaliers,  tried  friends 
of  my  father,  and  feme"  whem  I  knew  to  be  his  ene- 
mies.    Columbus    entered  the  door  a  few  ftcps,  then 

making 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.  37 

making  a  full  ftop,  bent  his  knee  to  the  ground,  and 
railing  his  manacled  hands,  attempted  to  fpeak  ;  but 
pride,  refentment,  wounded  honour,  fwclled  his  brave 
heart  nearly  to  burfting  ;  and,  fpite  of  his  endeavours 
to  fupprefs  them,  the  fcalding  tears  rolled  down  his 
pale  face.  It  was  a  reproach  more  poignant  than 
words  could  have  conveyed. 

Ifabelle  rofe  from  her  feat,  her  own  eyes  gliftening 
with  the  dew  of  fenfibility  ;  and  advancing  to  my 
father,  railed  him.  "  Rife,  my  brave  admiral,"  faid 
fhe,  "  and  let  thy  queen  take  off  thefe  fetters,  of  which 
fhe  has  more  caufe  to  be  afhamed  than  you  have." 
Then  leading  him  to  the  king,  "  Royal  Sir,"  faid  lhe, 
"  how  (lia.ll  we  recompenfe  this  worthy  man  for  the 
undcferved  humiliation  he  has  received  ?"  "  Colum- 
bus," faid  Ferdinand,  "  I  bluih  for  the  indignities  of- 
fered you  in  the  perfon  of  my  reprefentative  ;  but 
you  fuall  .have  ample  revenge.  Go  to  your  wife  and 
friends,  indulge  awhile  in  eafe,  -and  recruit  your 
ftrength  and  fpirits  ;  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  give  or- 
ders for  the  preparation  of  a  fleet  fuperior  to  any  you 
have  yet  commanded  ;  in  it  you  fhall  return  to  our  new 
colonies,  of  thewhole  of  which  I  from  this  moment  create 
you  viceroy,  giving  you  unlimited  power  to  create  or 
displace  officers,  and  diftribute  rewards  and  punifti- 
ments  at  pleafure.  I  know  it  is  a  power  you  will  not 
abufe.  Go,  valiant  chief,  and  reign  over  a  people, 
whom  you  have  conquered  by  praftifing  humanity, 
not  die  arts  of  war.  But  take  thofe  fetters  from  my 
fight,"  continued  he  ;  "  that  Columbus  ever  wore 
them,  will  caft  a  lafiing  fhade  on  my  memory;  and 
ages  yet  unborn,  when  they  (hall  hear  the  tale  rela- 
ted, will  accufe  Ferdinand  of  ingratitude." 

"  Pardon  me,  gracious  fire,"  faid  my  father,  pla- 
cing his  foot  on  the  chains  as  one  of  the  guards  at- 
tempted to  remove  them  ;  "thefe  fetters  are  mine.  I 
purchafed  them  with  fatigue  and  danger,  went  through 
many  perils  by  fea  and  land  to  obtain  them,  nor  will  I 
lightly  part  with  them.  Wherever  I  go,  they  mall 
go  with  me  ;  I  will  contemplate  them  every  dav,  left 
profoerity  mould  make  me  forget,  on  what  a  frail  ten- 
E  lire 


38  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ure  I  hold  my  happinefs.  I  will  look  at  them  ;  and 
whilll  I  recoiled  the  anguifh  I  felt  when  they  were  im- 
pofed  on  me,  learn  to  be  cautious  how  I  attempt  to  in- 
Hict  the  fame  mifery  on  a  fellow  creature.  When  I 
am  unhappy,  I  will  cheer  my  heart  by  the  remem- 
brance, that. the  moment  when  my  royal  miflrefs  took 
thefc  fetters  off  my  hands,  was  the  mod  tranfporting  mo- 
ment of  my  life  ;  for  it  reinitated  me  in  the  good  opin- 
ion of  my  fovcreigrt,  gave  my  friends  caufe  for  exul- 
tation, and  covered  my  enemies  with  confuiion." 

Ferdinand  was  filent.  Ifabeilc  i'miled  ;  it  was  a 
fmile  of  triumph.  "  You  mult  do  as  you  pleafe,"  laid 
:he.  Then  turning  to  the  guard,  "  convey  them  to 
wherever  Columbus  orders  ;  his  intrepid  fpirit  can 
convert  even  fetters  into  badges  of  di {Unction." 

Their  majeftics  then  left  the  chamber  followed  by 
♦  he  court,  and  in  a  moment  I  was  locked  m  the  arms 
'  f  my  father,  and  mingled  with  him  feme  of  the  moll 
delicious  tears  I  ever  flicd.  Tell  my  lovely  Orrabcjla, 
in  a  few  hours  after  ihe  receives  this,  I  fhall  be  at  her 
feet.  Yes,  my  revered  mother,  I  iliall  behold  once 
more  all  the  deareft  objects  of  my  affections  united  in 
one  family  circle.  I  uiall  fee  your  dear  countenance 
beam  with  heartfelt  fatisfaction  ;  fee  my  father  happy 
in  the  bofom  of  his  family  ;  and  in  the  fmiles  of  my 
Orrabella  and  her  fweet  infant,  enjoy  every  felicity  of 
which  human  nature  is  capable.  Farewcl  till  we 
meet.  FERDINANDO. 

The  next  paper  Columbia  opened  had  the  appear- 
ance more  of  a  manufcript  than  a  letter.  It  confided 
offeveral  fhects  oi'  paper  wrote  on  all  fides;  it  was 
from  the  wife  of  Columbus,  addrcflfed  to  her  grand- 
daughter Ifabclle. 

Beatina  to  Isabella. 

Valladolid,  1 5  20. 
AS  the  pcrufal  of  the  inclofed   letters  and  papers 
will  no  doubt  awaken  in  the  bofom  of  my  dear  Ifabeilc, 
a  curiofity  to  learn  the  events  that  followed  this  tri- 
umph of  Columbus  over  his  enemies :  and  as  I  think 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  39 

it-  neceflary  to  inform  her,  not  only  of  her  defccnt  from 
die  native  kings  of  Peru,  but  alio  of  the  fate  ( f  her 
parents,  who  now,  alas  !  are  no  more,  I  have  taken 
up  my  peri  to  trace  every  circumftance  that  may  tend 
to  prove  your  right  to  the  fovereignty  of  Quito,  ami 
the  fin-rounding  territories,  if  hereafter  you  ftiould  think 
it  worth  contending  for.  But  as  I  leave  you,  my  dc:.r 
child,  in  the  protection  of  my  own  family  ;  and  am  ful- 
ly feniiblethat  my  nephew,  the  marquis  Gftidova,  will 
take  fuch  care  of  your  fortune,  (now  ample)  that  by 
the  time  you  arc  of  age  to  perufe  thefc  papers,  you 
will  be  one  of  the  rtcheft  heireffesln  Spain;  I  fondly 
hope  you  will  not  fuffer  the  vain  ambition  of  bearing 
the  empty  title  ox  queen  to  influence  your  conduct,  or 
tempt  you  to  throw  away  the  real  bleflings  of  liie  h> 
purfuit  of  fhadows  and  toys. 

I  am  oldj  my  dear  Ifabelle,  and  have  lived  to  bury 
all  my  deareft  affections  in  the  filent  grave,  except  the 
kindly  lambent  flame  that  warms  my  languid  heart 
when  I  behold  your  innocent  fmiles,  and  liftcn  to  your 
lively  prattle.  You  are  now  fcarcely  fire  years  old  ; 
I  cannot  therefore  expect  to  live  to  fee  you  enter  en  the 
bufy  ft  age  of  life.  Let  me  entreat  you  then  (and  think, 
as  you"  perufe  this,  your  grandmother  fpeaks  to  you 
from  the  grave)  let  me  entreat  you  to  pay  the  ftiicleit 
attention  to  the  advice  of  your  uncle  and  his  amiable 
wife.  Certain  I  am,  they  will  never  impofc  harih  com- 
mands ;  and  to  them  I  leave  the  full  power  oi  controll- 
ing and  directing  you  during  the  dangerous  period  of 
youth. 

One  thing  T  think  it  proper  you  fhould  know,  in  the 
choice  of  a  partner  for  life,  (though  I  would  wiih  you 
to  confult  thofe  dear  friends,)  you  are  entirely  your 
own  miftrefs.  At  the  age  of  2  1,  your  fortune  will  be 
put  in  your  own  power  ;  but,  Ifabelle,  remember  the 
royal  race  from  whence  you  fprang,and  do  not  difgrace 
it  by  an  ignoble  alliance.  It  is  not  wealth,  it  is  not  ti- 
tles, I  would  have  you  feek  !  no,  my  child  ;  feck  cour- 
age, honour,  good  fenfe,  and  poliihed  manners.  Thefe 
conftitute    true  nobility  j     it  was  thefe  fo  eminently 

diftinguilhed 


«o  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

dirtinguifhcd  the  great  Columbus;  made  him  the  tle- 
light  of  oar  fex,  the  envy  of  his  own. 

I  liiy  you  are  your  own  miftrcfs  ;  in  every  point  but 
one  y.m  are  fo.  >  charge  you,  Ilabelle,  as  you  value 
your  eternal  peace,  unite  not  your  fate  with  that  of  ;t 
heretic.  Should  you  unhappily  feel  a  growing  inclina- 
tion for  one  of  thofe  impious  innovators  on  the  rights 
and  ceremonies  of  our  holy  mother  church,  repel  it 
with  your  utmolt  power ;  for  in  that  cafe  your  guar- 
dian has  my  authority  peremptorily  to  refufe  his  func- 
tion to  your  union.  And  flioutd  you  form  fuch  a  con- 
nexion in  defiance  of  his  abfolute  commands,  •your 
fortune,  on  the  i;i(tan'c  of  your  marriage,  becomes  for- 
feit, and  will  go  to  the  marquis's  eldeff  fon. 
v.iihes  to  fee  you  not  only  temporally  but  eternally 
happy,  have  led  me  to  make  this  point  indifputable  ; 
but  I  truit  it  is  a  needlefs  caution,  fmce  you  will  be 
brought  up  in  the  true  religion,  in  the  religion  of  your 
anceftors  ;  and  will  feel  a  juft  abhorrence  for  thofe 
licentious  wretches,  who  arrogantly  ftyie  themfelvcs 
reformers.  Of  all  the  European  courts,  none  are  fo 
infefted  with  this  feet  as  the  Englifh.  Beware,  then  ; 
and  when  you  behold  a  gay,  accomplilhed  Englifh- 
man,  and  many  fuch  vifit  the  court  of  Spain,  before 
you  venture  too  nearly  to  contemplate  his  feeming 
virtues  and  graces,  fay  within, yourfelf,  May  not  this 
man  be  tinctured  with  the  principles  I  am  cautioned 
to  avoid  ?    Think  thus,  avoid  him,  and  be  happy. 

..< .< .<  <«^j-}.^>»- >••>•>••>•■ 

CHAP.      VII. 

Return  to  the  r.eiv  Wottd. 

LAS,"  faid  Columbia,  laying  down  the  paper, 
**  I  now  fee  the  fource  from  whence  fprang  all 
my  dear  mother's  forrow.  She  was  bred  in  the  Cath- 
olic perfuaiion,  and  my  father  tempted  her  to  difobey 
the  rigid  commands  of  her  guardian,  forfeit  her  for- 
tune, embrace  his  faith,  and,  leaving  all  her  connex- 
ions 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  41 

ions  in  Spain,  follow  him  to  England.  Poor,  bigot-. 
eJ  Beatina,  little  did  you  think,  when  making  your 
will,  that  you  figned  the  mandate  for  your  grandchild's 
mifery.  For  what  might  not  avarice  tempt  the  ion 
of  the  marquis  Guidova  to  do  ?  Might  not  he  wink 
at  a  marriage  that  was  to  invcft  him  with  all  the  vail 
wealth  of  the  unfortunate  Ifabelle  ?  But  perhaps  I 
injure  him  j  he  may  be  innocent  of  fuch  an  intention  ; 
my  mifguided  parents  thcmfelves  may  be  alone  to 
blame.  Vet  knowing  and  adoring  them  as  I  do,  how 
can  I  believe  that  poflible  ?"  Thus  was  Columbia 
bewildered  with  conjecture.  At  length,  thinking  the 
manufcript  might  fatisfy  her  curiotity,  and  remove 
her  doubts,  flic  again  addrefled  berfelf  to  the  perufal 
of  it. 

"   It     was    the    beginning    of     the     year      ijoo,- 
that      the     great     Columbus    embarked     on      board 
the  .^eet  which  Ferdinand  had  ordered  to  be  equipped 
for  his  fervicc,    (with  all   the  attendance,   ceremonies,. 
fee.  cuftomary   on  inch  occafions,)   as  viceroy   of  the 
new-difcovered  continent.     Ferdinando  was  appointed 
governor  of  the  fettlements    in    Peru.      Myfelf,    the 
princefs  Orrabella,  and  her  fon  Chriftopher,  embarked 
with  them.     Thj    king,   queen,  and  all    the  court  at- 
tended us  to  the  water  fide  ;  a  vaft  concourfe  of  peo- 
ple crowded  the  fhore,  wearying  Heaven  with  prayers 
for  our  happinefs  whilft   abfent,   and  our  fafe  return. 
At  parting  from  his  auguft  patronefs,  Columbus  knelt 
to  kits  her  linnd.     She   railed  him,   and   throwing  a 
gold  chain  over  his  neck,   by  which  her   own  portrait 
was    fufpended,     "  Go,     my   invincible    hero,"     faid 
fiic,    "  go,  and  enjoy  the    reward   of    your  labours. 
And  if  we  never  meet   again  on  this  fide  eternity,  let 
my  memory  ever  be  dear  to  you  :  for  whilft  you  live, 
Columbus,  you  wii]  never  find  a  truer  friend  than  you 
have   found   in    Labcllc."     As  ihe  riniihed   fpeaking, 
ihe  inclined   her  head   towards  him  ;   he   refpe&fully 
fainted,  her  cheek,     "Heaven  ever  blefs  and   defend 
my  royal  millrefs  and  her  augufl   confort,"   faid  Co- 
lumbus.    "And  proteftl  my  h;ro,"   added  the  queen*, 
Then  turning  hadily  to  hide  her  tears,  ihe  rufhed  into 

E    2  t'.C 


42  REUBEN    amd    RACHEL;  or, 

the  midtt  of  her  attendants,  and  retired.  Yes,  my 
child,  the  good,  the  noble-hearted,  royal  Ifabelle  re- 
tired ;  and  we  law  her  no  more.  Before  we  returned, 
ihe  llept  in  peace  ;  but  her  name  fhall  be  revered  to 
after  ages.  The  brave  and  worthy  will  remember  it 
with  gratitude  ;  and  the  pious  tears  of  millions  yet 
unborn,  fhall  fanclily  her  memory  to  all  eternity. 

"  It  was  determined  at  our  departure,  that  the 
whole  fleet  fliould  accompany  Ferdinando  and  Orra- 
bella  to  her  native  coaft  ;  and  having  feen  him  fafely 
fettled  in  his  government,  proceed  to  Hifpaniola,  and 
fend  Roldan  and  his  licentious  affociates  home  in  die 
fame  difgraceful  circumitances  in  which  he  had  before 
ungratefully  involved  Columbus.  A  fine  fcafon  fa- 
voured our  voyage  ;  and  in  lefs  than  two  months  from 
our  embarkation,  we  law  the  fertile  fliores  of  Peru  rife 
upon  our  fight.  The  joy  of  Orrabella  as  lhe  beheld 
her  native  land  was  beyond  all  bounds.  "  I  ihall  fee  my 
father  and  mother,"  laid  lhe,  "  and  embrace  my  dear 
fillers  ;  I  fhall  fit  befide  them  for  hours,  and  relate  to 
them  the  wonders  I  have  feen  in  your  world  ;  and  on- 
ly that  they  know  my  lips  abhor  falfehood,  they  would 
think  fome  of  the  ftrange  things  I  have  to  relate  were 
nothing  more  than  ficlions.  Then  careffing  her  child, 
lhe  >-ould  talk  of  the  joy  of  her  father's  fubjecls  when 
they  fhould  behold  her  offspring,  whom  lhe  fully  be- 
lieved was  born  to  fway  the  fceptre  of  Peru. 

"  It  was  on  the  fecond  day  after  we  had  difcovered 
land,  that  we  reached  the  defired  harbour.  But  as  we 
drew  near  no  fhouts  of  joy  welcomed  our  approach  ; 
no  king,  no  guards,  no  exulting  fubjects  appeared  to 
greet  us.  Ail  was  lilcnt,  all  Avas  defolate.  Our  hearts 
funk  within  us.  "  They  are  at  Quito,"  laid  Orrabel- 
la ;  but  her  pallid  countenance  and  tremulous  voice 
betrayed  that  lhe  hardly  dared  hope  what  lhe  afferted. 
"  We  will  land,  however,"  laid  Columbus;  accordingly 
the  boat  was  hoifted  out,  and  we  proceeded  to  the  lhore. 
When  within"  a  few  yards  of  the  beach,  a  party  of  arm- 
ed men  appeared.  Their  drefs,  their  arms,  befpoke 
them  Spaniards.  Our  fleet  bore  the  itandard  of  Spain, 
•we  could  not  fear  our  countrymen  as  foes.     Columbus 

addreffed 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  45 

addrefTed  them  from  the  boat  in  terms  of  amity  ;  they 
returned  a  haughty  anfwer.  However,  they  permitted 
us  to  land.  But  Oh  !  Ifabelle,  what  were  our  feelings, 
Avhen  we  difcbrered  this  beautiful  continent  had  been 
invaded  by  a  party  of  freebooters;  \m  hofpitable 
inhabitants  rifled  of  all  their  treafurcs,  many  of 
them  maifacred,  and  the  remainder  driven  in- 
to the  interior  parts  of  the  country.  The  palace 
of  Orroaombo  was  converted  into  a  den  for  thefe: 
robbers,  where  riot  and  intemperance  reigned 
without  control.     The  fettlcrs  left  by  Columbus,  ad- 

;  to   the  intered  o{  the  king  and  riati 
driven  with  them  to  leek  an  afvlura  in  the  woods  and 
mountains. 

The  chief  of  thefe  banditti  was  named  Garcias, 
fierce,  cruel  and  vindictive.  Ke  received  Columbus 
with  a  gloomy  haughtinefs  of  demeanor,  and  when 
queltioned  as  to  his  right  in  thefe  dominions,  he  fcorn- 
fully  replied,  "  By  the  right  of  conquerc  ;  not  by  a 
>  ridiculous  family  compact  with  a  favage."  Orra 
was  prefent  when  Garcias  thus  infuited  her  family. 
"  Inlblent  Spaniard,"  laid  ihc,  her  eyes  darting  light- 
ning, her  fine  face  and  perfon  uncommonly  animated 
by  the  fire  of  refentment  ;  "  inlblent  Spaniard,  the 
king  my  father,  though  you  term  him  a  favage,  was 
your  fupcrior  in  every  virtue  !  What  though  ur.polifh- 
ed,  he  had  but  nature  for  his  guide  ?  that  nature  t 
him  humanity,  honour,  patience,  fortitude,  and  Orro- 
zombo  would  have  died  rather  than  deceive  a  friend, 
or  inful t  a  fallen  foe.  Oh  my  father!  my  father!" 
continued  fhe,  buriling  into  an  agony  of  tears,  "wheie 
are  you  now  ?  Where  is  my  revered  mother,  my  poor 
defencelefs  lifters?  Tell  me,  barbarian,  have  you  entirely 
extirpated  the  race  of  the  children  of  the  fun, or  do  you 
hold  the  lawful  king  of  this  territory  in  bondage,  whilft 
you  ufurp  his  rights,  and  riot  in  the  fpoils  of  his  de- 
voted fubjecls  ?  If  fo,  Oh  lead  me  to  the  dungeon  where 
you  have  confined  him,  that  I  may  weep  in  his  arms, 
and  die  with  grief  to  fee  my  king,  my  father,  a  Have 
to  the  nation  he  had  vainly  hoped  to  have  held  in 
eternal  bonds  of  ii  iendiliip,   and  gave  his  child  as  a 

Jioilage 


4+  REUBEN  asd  RACHEL;  or, 

hoftage  of  his  faith  towards  them.  Alas !  what  hoftage- 
did  he  require  to  infure  their  faith  to  him  ?  None  ;  his 
noble  heart  harboured  not  deceit,  uor  could  fufpect  it  in 
another." 

From  thefc  pathetic  rcrnonftrances  and  lamentations 
of  Orrabella,  we  perceived  fhe  iufpedted  Columbus 
and  Ferdinando  were  knowing  to  the  voyage  and  con- 
fequent  invafion  of  Garcias  and  his  lawlefs  band  'r 
but  in  this  flic  whs  fooii  undeceived.  For  Columbus,  ir- 
ritated by  the  infolence  of  Garcias,  threatened  him  with 
fpeedy  vengeance  unlefs- he  informed  him  where  Orro- 
zombo  and  the  royal  family  were.  Garcias  laughed  at 
his  menaces,  but  on  being  informed  that  Columbus  was 
deputed  viceroy  of  all  the  new-difcovered  lands  on  that 
fide  the  globe, and  being  requcfted  to  do  homage  to  him 
as  the  reprefentative  of  his  royal  mailer  Ferdinand,, 
or  expect  the  punifhment  due  to  a.  pirate,  a  traitor 
and  a  robber,  he  became  more  humble,  and  many 
of  his  followers,  understanding  the  dangerous  predica- 
ment in  which  they  ftood,  declared  themfelves  ready 
to  fupport  the  new  viceroy  in  the  difchargc  of  his  duty 
as  the  king's  delegate,  and  as  fuch  fwore  allegiance  to 
him. 

It  was  then  we  learnt  that  Garcias  Du  Ponty,  a  Caf- 
tilian  by  birth,  young,  ditfblute  and  ambitious,  having, 
heard  of  the  fuccefs  of  Columbus,  and  the  vaft  tre;iiures 
himfelf  and  followers  had  brought  from  the  new  world,, 
vefolved  to  make  an  experiment  himfelf ;  and  having,by 
promifes  of  large  future  reward,  and  fome  rich  piei- 
cnts  artfully  beftowed,  won  over  an  experienced  mar- 
iner (who  had  been  the  laft  voyage  with  your  grand- 
father, and  returned  in  the  fhip  with  Orrabella)  to 
undertake  to  navigate  his  veflel,  and  give  directions  to 
the  pilots  of  the  reft  of  the  fleet  how  to  follow  him  j. 
Garcias  prevailed  on  a  number  cf  young  Caitilian 
noblemen  and  gentlemen  to  embark  on  the  expedition. 
They  applied  for  no  letters  of  leave  from  Ferdinand  ; 
for  had  they,  it  is  moft  probable  they  would  have  been 
prevented  purfuing  this   (in  the  end)  ruinous  voyage. 

A  large   fleet  collected  from  the   different  ports  of 
.Spain,  met  in  the  Mediterranean  fea  many  ether  mar- 
iners 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  45. 

iilers  who  wilhed  to  purfuc  their  good  fortune,  and, 
not  being  content  to  wait  till  another  fleet  fliould  be 
fent  out  by  the  king's  orders,  were  ezgcr  to  embark 
with  thefe  licentious  noblemen,  and  direct  their  comic 
to  the  land  where  they  imagined  they  were  to  become 
petty  princes,  and  revel  in  ail  the  luxuries  which  na- 
ture could  afford,  or  unbounded  wealth  fupply. 

This  fleet  was  on  the  ocean  at  the  time  Columbus 
returned  from  HiJpaniola.  They  had  a  more  fpeedy 
voyage  than  their  inhuman  deligns  defcrved  ;  but 
HeaVen  often  permits  the  wicked  For  a  while  to  prof- 
per,  that  the  fuccefs  of  their  lawlefs  plans  may  be- 
come their  puniihment,  and  the  reverie  of  fortune 
coming  unexpected,  may  fail  the  heavier  on  diem. 
And  thus  it  proved  with  Gurcias  Du  Fonty  and  his 
followers. 

On  their  arrival  on  the  coaft  of  Peru,  they  found 
the  king  with  his  family,  as  was  their  cuflom,  {pend- 
ing the  fummer  at  their  palace  on  the  banks  of  a  river 
that  mingles  its  waters  with  the  ocean.  Garcias  and 
his  party  landed.  Orrozombo,  and  indeed  the  Span- 
ifh  fetllers,  believed  them  to  be  a  party  jfeiit  by  Co- 
lumbus to  bring  fupplics  to  the  colony,  and  received 
them  with  open  arms  and  every  mark  of  affection. 
But  alas,  they  were  too  fatally  undeceived,  when  thefe 
invaders  of  the  rights  of  nature  and  the  law  of  nations 
affumed  die  authority  of  mailers,  exacting  enormous 
fums  as  tribute  from  the  king,  and  forcing  hisfubjects 
to  labour  in  the  mines,  often  rewarding  thofe  labours 
(when  the  produce  of  them  was  not  equal  to  die  in- 
ordinate avarice  of  their  defiles)  with  death. 

Orrozombo,  wearied  by  their  repeated  infolencc, 
and  terrified  by  their  rapacity,  entreated  them  to  have 
the  continent,  offering  them  immenfe  trcalures.  But 
they  were  not  thus  to  be  fatisfied.  They  proceeded 
from  one  ftep  to  another,  till  neither  age  nor  11 
came  a  fafeguard  from  their  cruelties.  The, 
wife  and  the  pure  virgin  were  violated  in  the  prefcr.ee 
of  their  parents  and  protectors,  who,  confined  by  thefe 
inhuman  moniters,  had  not  the  power  to  relcue  or 
avenge  them. 

Human 


46  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Hunan  nature,  however  patient,  could  not  tamely 
mdure  fuch  enormities.  The  natives  and  the  Span- 
iards united  their  forces  to  endeavour  to  expel  the  in- 
vaders ;  but  it  was  too  late.  They  had  fent  apart 
of  their  company  to  fearch  the  interior  country  for 
mines.  Thef'e  returned,  boafting  of  the  ravages  they 
had  committed,  and  diiplaying  the  fpoils  they  had 
gleaned.  They  had  plundered  every  village  through 
which  they  pafled,  and  then  fet  fire  to  it.  Thoufands 
ofiunocent  families,  thus  deprived  of  their  homes  and  all 
means  of  fupport,  fled  into  the  mountains,  where  many 
perilhed  through  famine,  and  the  reft  dragged  on  a 
wretched  life,  living  on  wild  fruit,  and  what  gams 
their  bows  and  arrows  produced,  fleecing  in  caves  or 
recedes  of  the  recks,  and  too  often  their  miserable  ex- 
igence was  terminated  by  the  fangs  of  the  tyger  or  the 
lion.  Flufhsd  with  fuccefs,the  Caft'ilia'ns  meditated  on- 
ly how  to  make  an  entire  conqueft  of  the  country. 

Undifciplined  in  the  arls  of  -war,  and  though  experi- 
encing its  effeel  every  hour,  ftill  unfufpecting  of  treach- 
ery,— the  Peruvians  were  at  this  time,  by  the  art  of 
the  Spaniards,  induced  to  throw  afide  their  arms,  ;<,nd 
agree  to  terms  of  peace  with  Garcias,  who  a/Turned  a 
graver  demeanor,  and  made  feme  flight  conccflions  to 
Orrozombo  for  the  mifconduct  of  his  companions,  who 
by  a  few  weeks  of  quiet  regular  behaviour  lulled  him 
into  fecurity  ;  then,  when  in  full  confidence  of  the  faith 
of  their  enemies,  the  Peruvians,  who  had  been  celebra- 
ting the  annual  feait  of  the  fun  at  which  thefe  ftrangers 
had  been  admitted  to  participate  ;  then,  when  parting 
from  them  in  amity  they  tranquilly  funk  to  reft  ;  then 
did  the  blood  -thirfty  Garcias  and  his  detefted  crewrulh 
rn  the  defencelefs  victims,  and  mafTacre  them  without 
mercy  and  without  remorfe. 

Oh  thou  Power  eternal,  whofe  name  Is  a  tower  of 
ftrcngth,  and  whofe  mercy  is  as  infinite  as  thy  wifdom ! 
what  ihall  we  fay,  that  thefe  barbarians  fhould  call 
themfelves  thy  fervants,  and  bear  the  glorious  appella- 
tion of  Chriftians  ?  Alas,  mi.laken  men,  the  God  you 
fervc  delightcth  not  in  blood  ;  his  precept  and  example 
fraught  peace,  mercy  and  good  will  to  all  mankind. 

But 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  .47 

But  the  Peruvians  were  idolaters  !  cries  the  mifguided 
.enthuhaft  ;  and  fo  was  Garcias  and  his  followers  ;  their 
idols  were  avarice,  ambition,  luxury,  and  lawlcl's  paf- 
fion  ;  to  them  they  bent  the  knee,  and  on  their  altars  did 

they  facrifice  millions  of  innocent  people. But    I 

digrefs. 

Du  Ponty,  though  the  wretch  his  aelions  proclaim 
him,  was  handlbmc  in  his  perfon,  gay,  lively  and  gal- 
lant ;  his  fair  outfide  attracted  die  notice  of  Al/iia, 
thcyoungeft  fifW  of  Orrabella.  Alaira  was  equally 
lovely  as  her  filler,  but  (he  poffeffed  not  that  greatness 
of  foul,  that  intrepid  firmnefs  which  characterized  your 
mother.  By  nature  foft,  gentle  and  complying,  when 
the  fubtle  Caftilian,  who  read  her  paffion  in  her  admir- 
ing eyes,  fuedferfome  token  of  her  favour,  ihe  heiita- 
ted  not  to  own  her  love,  and  confefs,  could  her  father 
be  brought  to  approve  it,  to  be  the  wifevf  Du  Ponty 
would  conftitutc  her  chief  felicity. 

But  Garcias  had  not  an  idea  of  an  honourable  union  ; 
he  meant  to  conquer  her  father's  kingdom  ;  and  bad 
it  in  contemplation  to  degrade  the  fair  Al/ira  to  the 
ftation  of  a  Have,  for  the  amufement  of  his  loofer  hours. 
On  the  night  of  the  horrid  maii'acrc,  Garcias  was 
purpofely  in  the  apartment  of  the  princefs,  where  he 
was  frequently  privately  admitted  after  her  parents 
were  retired  to  reft.  Al/ira,  who  was.liflcnirg  to  the 
adulating  voice  of  her  lover,  did  not  at  firft  attend  to 
the  confufed  murmur  that  ran  through  the  palace  on 
the  entrance  of  the  Spaniards  ;  but  a  fudden  ihiiek, 
that  feemed  to  come  from  the  apartment  of  her  mother, 
roufed  her  dormant  ler.ies.  She  ftartcd,and  would  have 
run  to  the  afhftance  of  her  parents,  whom  fhe  imagined 
were  fuddcnly  taken  ill, but  reiterated  (hrieks  which  now 
iffued  from  every  room  in  the  palace,  made  her  paufc, 
and  fhc  became  a  motionless  ftatue  of  .horror. 

"  The  palace  is  befet,"  cnicd  Garcias,  "  let  me  bear 
you,  lovely  Al/ira,  to  a  place «of  fafcty  ;  I  will  then  re- 
turn to  the  affiitance  of  your  father."  "  Oh  no!  now, 
now  refcue  him,  or  let  me  die  with  him,"  was  all  flic 
could  fay,  before  Du  Ponty  bore  her  in  his  arms,  out  of 
the  chamber,  and  down  the  lUirs.     At  the  foot  of  thefe 

ftajue* 


45  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

flairs  flie  faw  (by  the  light  of  torches  which  were  every 
where  flaming  round)  her  father  dragged  by  the  hair 
of  his  head;  whilil  an  inhuman  wretch,  regardlefs  of 

his  grey  hairs  and  defencelefs  flate,  plunged  a  poniard 
in  his  bofom.  Al/ira,  driven  almoft  to  madnefs  at  the 
fight,  fprang  from  the  arms  cf  Garcias,  and  threw  her- 
ftlf  into  thofe  of  the  dying  monarch.  He  knew  his 
child, pre/fed  her  to  his  boibm,faintly  articulated  a  bleff- 
ing  on  her,  and  expired. 

Alzira's  fenfes  forfobk  her.  In  that  ftate  fhe  was 
borne  to  the  tent  of  her  betrayer.  The  fcene  that  fol- 
lowed is  too  horrid  for  repetition  !  Morning  dawned, 
and  the  ill-fated  princefs  awoketo  a  perfect  fenfe  of  all  the 
miferies  of  her  fituation.  She  wilhed  for  death,  but  all 
means  of  accelerating  that  period  was  removed  from 
her.  She  once  conceived  the  thought  of  refufing  all  food, 
but  had  not  reiblution  to  perfift.  Garcias  was  atten- 
tive and  kind  ;  pretended  to  mourn  with  her  the  fate 
of  her  parents  :  She,  not  fully  acquainted  with  his 
treachery,  liAened  to  his  foothings,  was  confoled,  and 
endured  life  for  his  fake.  But  uninterrupted  pofleflion 
brought  on  fatiety,  and  at  length  indifference  and  dif- 
guft.  Du  Ponty  neglected  and  treated  her  harfhly. 
She  felt  her  fituation,  but  fhe  was  now  a  mother,  and 
more  than  ever  attached  to  the  father  of  her  child  ;  fhe 
dragged  on  a  wretched  exigence,  without  joy,  with- 
out hope,  without  even  a  dawn  of  comfort. 

The  natives  of  Peru  who  had  efcaped  the  fwords  of 
the  Caftilians  on  that  memorable  night,  failed  not  to 
attribute  their  misfortunes  to  their  unhappy  fovereign 
Orrozombo  ;  he  had  been  flack  in  the  obfervance  of 
fome  of  the  ceremonious  devotions  directed  to  be  paid  to 
their  deity,  the  Sun  ;  he  had  even  doubted  whether 
their  religion  was  the  true  religion  ;  he  had  refufed  to 
dedicate  one  of  his  daughters  to  the  fervice  of  their 
god  ;  he  had  married  the  heirefs  of  his  crown  and 
kingdom  to  a  ftranger,  who  abfolutely  denied  the  di- 
vinity of  the  power  they  worfln'pped,  and  called  their 
rites  and  ceremonies,  absurdities  and  fuperftitions  ; 
and  had  fuffered  this  ftranger  to  carry  her  with  him 
to  a  diflant  land.  Theie,  ia  the  eyes  of  the  unenlight- 
ened 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  49 

•ned  Peruvians,  were  heinous  offences,  and  had  drawn 
down  the  wrath  of  their  deity  upon  them  ;  and  thus, 
for  the  crimes  of  an  individual,  did  they  fooliihly  im- 
agine a  whole  nation  was  puniihed. 

It  was  at  this  period  our  fleet  arrived,  hut  the  name 
of  Spaniard  and  of  Chriltian  had  become  hateful  to  the 
ears  of  the  natives  ;  not  one  therefore  appeared  to  ei- 
poufe  the  caufe  of  Columbus,  imagining  no  doubt  that 
they  fhould  but  expel  one  tyrant  to  make  room  for 
another.  Some  few  ventured  by  ftcalth  to  come  and 
fee  their  princefs  ;  but  their  fpirits  were  depreffed,  and 
their  expreflions  of  love  and  duty  consequently  cold 
and  languid.  When  fhe  prefented  her  fon  to  them  as 
their  rightful  king,  they  would  (bake  their  heads,  and 
cry  emphatically,  "  He  is  a  Chriftian  and  a  Spaniard." 

Whilfl  Columbus  was  ardently  labouring  to  reduce 
the  Spaniards  to  fonie  degree  offubjedtion  and  order,  at 
the  fame  time  driving  to  draw  the  natives  back  to  the 
duty  and  allegiance  they  owed  the  princefs,  the  treach- 
erous Du  Ponty,  who  had  for  fome  time  worn  the 
mafic  of  friendship  in  combination  with  feme  of  the 
leaders  of  the  banditti,  had  laid  an  infernal  plot  to  burn 
our  fleet,  and  then,  having  the  few  that  might  at  the 
time  be  on  fllore  entirely  in  their  power,  oblige  them 
to  fubmit  to  whatever  terms  they  pleafed  to  offer. 

But  this  plot  was  providentially  discovered  by  a 
young  Peruvian  maid,  who,  detained  in  the  palace  by 
Garcias  to  attend  on  Al/.ira,  though  too  young  to 
become  a  prey  to  any  of  his  officers  or  affociates,  was 
yet  old  enough  to  deteft  their  actions,  weep  over  the 
ruin  of  her  native  country,  and  pray  for  fome  propitious 
hour  to  arrive,  when  its  enemies  might  be  puniihed. 
She  had  overheard  Du  Ponty  difcourfing  with  one  of 
his  comrades  on  their  intended  plan,  on  t!<c  very  night 
before  it  was  to  be  put  in  execution  ;  and,  waiting 
till  all  was  wrapt  in  filence,  flic  Hole  from  her 
tpartment,  and  came  to  our  tent.  Having  difcloild 
wha«  j  flic  had  obtained  of  their  defgns,  O 

rabella  told  her  Vne  fhould  flay  with   us   andJxcr  rr 
one  of  her  attendants;  but   fhe  laid   her  hand  on  her 
heart  ajid  cried,  "  No  !   I  cannot ;"  then  looking  ear- 
F  nealy 


r- 
me 


50  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

neftly  in  the  face  of  the  princefs,  fhe  cried,  "  Poor  Al- 
zira  !  (he  is  alive  ;  Ihe  is  miferable  !  I  will  live  or 
die  with  her."  "  Alive  !  my  fifter  alive  !"  faid  Orra- 
bella,  darting  from  her  feat ;  lead  me  to  her  ;  I  will 
deliver  her,  or  ihare  her  fate." 

The  impatience  of  the  princefs  was  only  to  be  flayed 
by  the  remonftrance  of  her  hufband  and  his  father* 
"  Your  precipitancy,  my  love,"  cried  FerdinandOj 
"  may  ruin  all.  Our  enemies  are  now  v.  i  apt  in  '!eep  ; 
the  time  is  favourable  ;  we  mull  repay  treachery  with 
treachery  ;  fall  upon  them  whilft  they  are  unprepared, 
and  make  them  prifoners." 

This  refolution  taken,  Ferdinando  took  a  fmall 
boat,  and,  going  to  the  fhips,  ordered  from  them  a 
number  of  men,  who  were  landed  at  different  times, 
in  feveral  boats.  The  officers  were  informed  of  Gar- 
cias's  intended  treachery ;  the  private  foldiers  and 
failors  were  not  told  of  it,  lell  the  fpirit  of  revenge 
might  be  more  powerful  than  the  refpect  they  bore 
their  commander,  and  tempt  them  in  the  firft  moment 
of  paffion  to  commit  outrages  at  which  they  would 
have  caufe  to  bluih  hereafter.  Columbus  dilpatched 
parties  to  the  dwellings  of  the  principal  officers  ;  thefe 
parties  he  took  the  command  of  himfelf.  Ferdinando 
was  appointed  with  a  ftrong  guard  to  invell  the  pal- 
ace, which  Du  Ponty  had  made  his  own  refidence 
ever  fince  the  night,  when  he  put  its  unoffending  in- 
mates to  the  fword.  Ferdinando  knew  every  apart- 
ment, every  fecret  room  in  it ;  and  the  private  entrance 
by  which  the  ill-fated  Alzira  ufed  to  admit  her  lover, 
was  pointed  out  by  the  Indian  girl. 

No  perfuafions,  however  urgent,  could  prevail  on 
Orrabclla  not  to  accompany  her  hufband,  who,  anx- 
ious for  her  fafety,  and  more  fo  on  account  of  her 
iituation,  (for  lhe  almoft  daily  expected  to  prefent 
him  with  another  pledge  of  muoial  affe&ion)  earnelHy 
entreated  her  not  to  go,  promifing  to  conducl  her  fil- 
ter in  fafety  to  her — but  in  vain.  Orrabclla  was  not 
eafily  to  "be  perfuaded  from  doing  what  fhe  conceived 
a  duty.     As  I  found  her  determined  to  go,  I  refolv- 

ed  to  accompany  her.    ,"  * 

Through 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  51 

Through  a  fmall  gate,  at  the  utmoft  extent  of  the 
garden,  we  were  all  admitted,  and  about  twenty  yards 
from  the  houfe  entered  a  door  that  appeared  to  be  fix- 
ed in  the  fide  of  a  green  Hoping  bank  ;  this  opened  in- 
to an  arched  pafTage,  which  led  to  the  cellars  of  the 
palace,  which  we  traverfed  with  no  little  perturbation  ; 
and,  afcending  a  flight  of  ftairs,  found  ourfelves  in  a 
fpacio.us  hall ;  when  the  young  Indian,  taking  hold 
of  Orrabella's  hand,  led  her  to  the-  left,  placing  her 
finger  on  her  mouth,  in  token  of  filence.  i  followed  ; 
and,  entering  a  room  in  the  midft  of  which  glimmered 
a  pale  lamp,  perceived  by  its  feeble  beams,  an  elegant 
female  habited  in  the  Peruvian  drefs,  kneeling  on  the 
floor  befidc  a  bed,  on  which  lay  a  flceping  infant. 
Her  long  hair  hung  negligently  over  her  neck  and 
ihoulders  ;  her  arms  were  eroded  on  the  bed,  and  her 
head  relied  between  them.  At  the  moment  we  en- 
tered, her  forrows  were  lulled  into  forgetfulnefs.  At 
the  nciie  we  made,  (though  it  would  have  been 
fcarcely  perceptible  to  another  ear,  yet  mifery  is  wake- 
ful, and  Marts  at  every  found)  lhe  raifed  her  languid 
head,  gazed  carneftly  at  Orrabella,  who  funk  on  her 
knees  beiide  her.  "Sifter!  lifter!"  faid  lhe;  and, 
throwing  herfelf  into  her  arms,  fainted  on  her  bofem. 

Whilft  we  were  bulled  with  Al/.ira,  Ferdinando  and 
his  followers  made  good  ufe  of  their  time.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  caftle  were  in  a  deep  deep,  partly  the 
effecls  of  intemperance  ;  lb  profound  were  their  (lum- 
bers, that  many  of  them  felt  the  chains  on  their  hands 
and  feet,  before  they  could  recover  fenfc  fufticient  to 
know  who  had  put  them  on.  Some  few  made  a  faint 
reliftance  ;  but  thefe  were  foon  intimidated  into  fi- 
lence ;  and  in  filch  quijt  did  every  party  proceed, 
that  before  the  dawn  of  day  all  the  leaders,  and  a 
great  number  of  their  followers,  were  in  confinement, 
and  at  the  mercy  of  Columbus. 

In  the  morning,  the  incidents  of  the  night  fpread 
terror  and  confternation  through  all  the  Caftilian  par- 
ty ;  and  thole  who  were  ftill  at  liberty,  readily  vowed 
fubmilfion  to  the  viceroy,  in  hopes  by  fo  doing  to  fe- 
cure  their  lives   and  fortunes,  as  they  imagined   Du 

Ponty 


52  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

Ponty  and  his  officers  would  be  immediately  execut- 
ed, and  their  treasures  feized  on  as  public  property. 
in  this  they  were  miftaken  ;  Columbus  wiflied  to 
fecure  Ids  own  and  followers  lives  and  properties,  but 
!  not  arrogate  to  himfelfthe  right  of  plunging 
w  mnltitude  of  human  beings  into  eternity,  becaufe 
they  oppofed  his  plans,  or  had  been  blindly  led  by  »n 
unprincipled  commander  to  perpetrate  actions  their 
better  reafon  would  have  flmddercd  at. 

During  the  remainder  of  this  eventful  night*  Alzira 
informed  her  lifter  of  the  circumftances  I  have  already 
related  to  you.  Orrabella's  foul  was  in  a  flame  at  the 
thought  of  her  fitter's  diflionour.  She  finifhed  her 
melancholy  recital  in  ihefe  words  ;  "  When  I  heard  c{~ 
j  our  arri  /al,  my  dear  filler,  a  gleam  of  joy  fhot  through 
my  bofom  ;  but  reflection  told  me  I  had  little  reafon 
to  rejoice,  for  1  was  difhonoured,  ftained  !  and  could 
1  hope  to  be  prefled  to  the  chafte  bofom  ofOrrabella  ? 
Oh  no !  I  knew  I  had  forfeited  all  right  to  your  .•.necticn, 
and  I  refolved  fcduloufly  to  feclude  myfelf  from  your 
fight,  fufFering  you  to  believe  I  had  been  facrificed  on 
the  fame  night  with  my  parents  and  filters."  "  Would 
to  Heaven  you  had,"  faid  Orrabella,  fervently  ;  "for 
it  is  a  thousand  times  more  afflicting  to  my  heart  to  fee 
you  thus,  dragging  on  a  miferable  life,  with  public, 
lois  of  honour,  than  to  fee  you  covered  with  wounds, 
and  breathing  out  your  foul  in  agony.  Oh!  my  poor 
ruined  Alzira,  where  was  the  fpirit  that  was  wont  to 
animate  the  children  of  the  fun  when  the  wretch  firft 
difclofed  his  impious  propofal  ?  Why  had  not  my  filler 
raifed  her  arm,  and  ftruck  the  monfter  dead  ?" 
"  Alas !"  replied  the  weeping  princefs,  "  I  loved  him 
with  fuch  enthufiaftic  fervour,  that  I  would  have  given 
my  own  life  to  preferve  his.  And  pity  me,  Orrabella  ; 
for  cruel  as  he  has  been  to  me  and  mine,  I  ftill  do  love 
him  almoft  o  madnefs.  I  ftruggle  with  my  paffion,  I 
ftrive  to  teach  my  heart  obedience  to  the  dictates  of 
reafon  ;  but  in  vain."  "  Weak,  unhappy  girl,"  cried 
Orrabella,  with  a  ftern  look,  "  if  your  heart  is  fo  re- 
fractory, enforce  its  obedience  with  this  ;"  prefenting 
her  with  a  dagger,  which  flic  always  wore  in  her  girdle. 

"Ralh 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES. 


53 


"  Rafh  woman,"  faid  I,  matching  the  dagger  from 
her,  juft  as  the  trembling  Alzira  had  extended  her  hand 
to  receive  it ;  "  rafh  woman,  what  is  it  you  do  ?  Have 
you  forgot  that  the  precepts  of  the  Chriftian  religion 
forbid  felf-deltru(5lion  ?"  "  So,  (me  replied  haughtily) 
does  it  forbid  murder,  rapine,  fraud,  perjury,  and  op- 
preffion.  Du  Ponty,  I  think,  profess  C'hriilianity. 
Oh!  madam  !  madam!  the  profeflbrs  of  youf  religion 
muit:  practiie  iJiemfelves  what  they  would  teach  others, 
before  you  can  hope  to  make  fincere  converts."  The 
argument  was  unanswerable,  and  I  remained  filent. 

Tranquillity  was  now  in  a  great  mcafure  reltored  ;  it 
was  refolved  the  leaders  of  this  lawlefs  expedition  fhould 
be  fent  immediately  home  to  Spain.  Thofe  of  their  fol- 
lowers, who  chofc  to  lubmit  to  the  laws  put  in  force 
by  the  viceroy  and  governor,  were  to  be  peimitted  to 
ftay  ;  and  when  all  was  eltablifhed  with  fome  degree 
of  permanency,  your  grandfather  was  to  depart  for 
Hifpaniola.  13ut  whUft  we  were  laying  theft  plans,  it 
pleaied  Heaven,  by  an  awful  and  unexpected  viola- 
tion, to  break  our  mealures,  and  haften  our  departure 
from  a  coafr,  where,  from  our  firit  landing,  we  had 
been  furrounded  only  by  terror,  vexation  and  disap- 
pointment. 

iiit  ntjt^ti  >  i  *  i 

CHAP.       VIII. 
Beatina's  Narrative  continued. 

'HILST  preparations  were  making  for  two  of 
the  fleet  to  return  to  Europe,  that  Garcias 
and  his  followers  might,  from  the  juftice  of  a  regu- 
lar court  of  judicature,  receive  their  ientence,  your 
mother  prefented  Ferdiriando  with  a  daughter,  who 
(by  promife  given  to  the  queen  of  Spain  on  our  leav- 
ing that  kingdom)  was  chriftened  Uabelle.  It  re- 
ceived the  baptifmal  benediction  when  but  fovv  . 
old  ;  lor  the  diitrefs  of  mind  under  which  your  mo:lv_r 
F  2    ■  had 


54  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

had  laboured,  had  affe&ed  the  health  of  the  infant, 
and  its  life  was  very  doubtful. 

It  was  nearly  a  fortnight  from  the  birth  of  this 
daughter,  when  as  Alzira,  your  father,  and  myfelf, 
were  fitting  in  the  apartment  of  Orrabella,  an  unufual 
drowfinefs  deemed  to  affect  us  all.  The  atmofphere 
had  been  for  fome  days  heavy  and  oppreffive,  which 
at  this  time  had  increafed  to  fuch  a  degree  as  to  occa- 
sion fomcthing  like  a  fenfe  of  fuffocation  ;  the  heat  too 
was  intenfe,  though  in  general  the  climate  is  temperate 
and  pleafant.  A  torpor  feized  our  fenfes,  and  we  fat 
gazing  at  each  other,  without  power  to  (peak,  and 
with  lcarce  the  faculty  of  thinking.  From  this  flupor 
we  were  aroufed  by  a  tremendous  noifc,  like  the  howl- 
ing of  a  mighty  wind,  the  ruining  of  waters,  and  the 
craih  of  thunder.  In  a  moment  the  palace  fhook  I  i 
its- foundation,  and  in  lefs  than  ten  minutes  all  wa« 
again  profound  fder.ee.  '•  One  fhock  is  pail,''  cried 
Alzira,  in  breathlefs  agony  ;  "  another,  and  all  is  hit. 
Oh  Garcias  !  beloved  Garcias  !  let  me  five  you 
whilft  I  can."  She  caught  up  her  child,  who  was 
playing  on  the  floor,   and  ruined   toward  of 

the  palace  where  Du  Pcnty  was  confined.  Ferdinan- 
do,  who  had  learnt  from  his  wife  the  nature  of  thefe 
convuifions  of  the  earth,  caught  her  in  his  arms  ;  and 
bidding  me  hafte  and  follow  him,  bore  her  with  pre- 
cipitation from  the  palace.  The  two  children,  Chrifi 
tophcr  and  Ifabelle,  were  in  an  adjoining 
with  their  attendants.  1  ran  to  the  door  in  hopes  to 
match  them  fr<  m  impending  death,  when  the  h. 
again  began  to  totter.  I  law  the  apartment  fill  that 
held  the  precious  bares,  and  heard  their  cries  as  they 
were  crufhed  beneath  the  ruins.  At  that  momenc, 
my  Ion,  who  had  borne  his  wife  to  an  open  held,  re- 
turned, and  carried  me  through  the  falling  fabric, 
which  nodded  horror  on  every  fide,  to  the  fane  place 
of  comparative  fafety* 

Two  hours  of  fuch  tremendous   threatenings  from 
gleaming  meteors,  burfts  of  thunder,   and  contortions 
of  the  .earth,  as  could  hardly  be  Supported  by  human 
nature,  we  pafTed  fitting  on  the  ground,  expe&ing  ev- 
ery 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  55 

ery  moment  it  would  open  ana  fwallow  us,  v.'hen  at 
length  nature  became  more  compofed  ;  the  dark  mills 
which  had  obfeured  the  face  i  f  heaven  began  to  diCl- 
pate,  and  the  fetting  fun  darted  his  watery  beams  aerofs 
the  harbour.  What  then  were  our  fenfations,  when, 
added  to  our  terror  at  feeing  the-wholc  face  of  the 
country  a  univerlal  wreck,  we  beheld  the  harbour 
empty,  not  <  ne  v  effel  to  be  lccn  ?  Columbus  had  gone 
rd  tliat  afternoon,  to  give  Come  ord  its  ;  repai'a- 

0  oiu*  departure  for  Hiij  ani  .  imagined 
lie  hurricane*  .attendant  on  1  t,  had 

1  him  and  his  companions  in  the  waves.  We 
caft  our  eyes  towards  die  pi  ce  wl  J  the 
tents  and  dwel  i  i<  nds  and  •  ;  nor 
tent  nor  dwelling  appeared  j  all  w;is  filence,  all  was 
defolation.  A  valt  cavit;  •  1  where  on< 
dwellings  were,  through  which  h                       hed  a 

•rrent ;  which,  as  it  roared  along,  h< 
its    furfa.ee    tree.-,    fbrubs,    r:  his,    and    bodies   ei    wild 
beads  wliich  had  periihed  in  the  temped. 

Oh!  what  a  night  of  agony  we  paft.  Yet  this  rude 
{hock  had  not  affected  oniverfal  nature.  The  dews 
fell  as  kindly,  the  zephyrs  blowed  us  refrefbing,  and  the 
Tun  arofe  with  as  much  fplendor,  ;is  though  the  night 
had  pa^ed  in  its  ufual  tranquillity.  And  why  not  ? 
The  whole  world  is  but  an  atom  Boating  in  ii 
fpace,  and  we  who  crawl  on  i  but  as  en 

thousands  of  which  might  be  accidentally  crufhed 
beneath  the  foot  of  the  paflenger,  without  deranging, 
in  the  lead,  the  beauty,  order  and  fymmetry  of 
the  univerfal  whole. 

When  we  beheld  the  defolation  which  fpread  far 
and  wide  on  every  fide,  defpair  had  i  ed  our 

minds ;  but  as  the  morning  advanced,  we  defcried 
four  of  our  veffels  coming  with  a  get. tie  breeze  into 
the  harbour.  Columbus  landed,  and  our  meeting  was 
fpeechlefs  ecftacy. 

From  the  devaftation  rf  the  night,  about  forty  fouls 
had  efcaped,  and  thefe  entreated  to  be  allowed  to  em- 
bark and  quit  the  coalt  immediately.  Columbus 
having  affented  to  their  requell,  and  had  us  conveyed 
on  board  Lis  own  fhip,  put  immediately  to  ila.     He 

then 


56  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

then  informed  ns,  that  hearing  the  hurricane  roar  be- 
fore it  came  upon  him,  he  cut  the  cables  of  his  (hip* 
and  ordering  the  fails  to  be  loofed,  prepared  to  put 
before  it,  whichever  way  it  ihould  drive,  as  the  only 
hope  of  laving  his  veflel.  Several  others  followed  his 
example  ;  and  providentially  the  temped  bore  dire«5Hy 
out  of  the  harbour.  Thofe  who  caught  the  firft  mo- 
ment to  put  to  lea,  were  faved  ;  three  ftiips  remained 
in  port,  and  were  (wallowed  in  the  general  ruin. 

Garcias  and  his  whole  party  were  in  this  dreadful 
night  hurried  out  of  time  into  eternity.  Of  all  the 
princefs  Orrabella's  attendants,  only  Cora  and  her 
mother  were  faved.  Poor  Alzira,  with  the  virtuous 
Peruvian  maid  who  faved  us  from  the  vile  fchemes 
of  the  Caftilians,  were  buried  in  the  ruins  of  the  palace. 

On  our  arrival  in  Hifpaniola,  Columbus  lhewed  his 
commiilion  and  authority  to  displace  Roldan  and  his 
officers,  and  to  take  upon  himfelf  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment. The  natives,  and  indeed  the  inhabitants  in 
general,  received  him  with  acclamations  of  joy,  and 
followed  the  degraded  Roldan  to  the  water  fide  when 
he  embarked,  with  curfes,  lliouts  and  hifTes. 

Two  years  from  this  period  palled  on  in  the  utmoft 
tranquillity.  The  only  alloy  to  our  happinefs  at  this 
period,  was  the  ill  health  of  your  mother,  whole  deli- 
cate frame  had  received  a  fhock  almoft  beyond  her 
ftrcngth  to  fupport.  But  time  by  degrees  weakened 
the  remembrance  of  her  fevere  loffes  ;  and  as  her 
fpirits  began  to  regain  their  wonted  tone,  health  faint- 
ly tinged  her  cheeks,  and  enlivened  her  grief-fwolll 
eyes. 

It  was  at  the  clofe  of  the  year  1504,  that  we  receiv- 
ed the  afflicting  intelligence  of  the  death  of  Uabclle  of 
Spain.  When  Columbus  was  informed  of  an  event 
fo  diftrefling  to  us  all,  but  to  him  in  particular,  he 
prelfed  her  portrait  (which  he  ever  wore  about  his 
neck)  to  his  lips  ;  "  Oh  !  my  royal  miltrefs,"  faid  he, 
**  in  the  grave,  with  thy  virtues,  lies  buried  the  fame,  the 
honour,the  ha;  ipinefs  of  Columbus."  He  fpoke  prophet- 
ically ;  for  within  fix  months  from  the  death  of  the  queen, 
your  grandfather  was  recalled  ;  and  Davilla,  a  crea- 
ture 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  57 

ture  of  the  king's,  and  an  intimate  cf  Roldan 's,  was 
appointed  to  ilicceed  him  as  viceroy.  Your  father, 
offended  at  the  indignity  offered  his  parent,  religned 
all  his  Cilices,  and  we  returned  to  Spain  together. 
Columbus  never  vifited  the"  court  ;  but  immediately 
on  landing  retired  to  an  eftate  hep<  ffeffed  in  Vallado- 
lid.  Ferdinando  attended  the  levee  of  the  king  feve- 
ral  times,  but  he  was  either  entirely  overlooked,  or  ad- 
dreffed  in  fueh  terms  of  chilling  coldnefs,  that  his  high 
i'pirit  could  not  brook  it,  and  he  followed  his  fa 
into  retirement. 

Perhaps  your  inexperienced  mind  will  wonder  how 
Roldan,  but  a  few  years  fince  poor,  and  dependent  on 
the  friendihip  and  bounty  of  Columbus,  could  have 
xntereft  Sufficient  to  difplace  that  valiant  commander, 
and  place  a  favorite  of  his  own  in  his  office.  But,  my 
dear  girl,  the  neglected  Roldan  was  poor,  the  return- 
ing governor  was  rich.  And  they  who  in  the  former 
Situation  treated  him  with  contemptuous  neglect,  or  at 
bell  withcold,fupercilious  civility, now  received  him  with 
open  arms,  applauded  every  word  he  fpoke,  and,  like 
fummer  flies  round  a  veffel  which  contains  honey, 
fwarmed  with  a  food,  officious,  greedy  hum,  in  hopes 
to  lhare  the  fweets  that  it  contains. 

Roldan  was  a  man  of  the  world  ;  he  heard  them, 
received  their  careifes,  fimiled  internally  at  their  duplic- 
ity, made  them  fubfervient  to  his  purpofes,  and  then 
retaliated  1  :i  them  the  contumely  and  fcorn  which  he 
well  remembered  once  to  have  received.  Added  to 
this,  Ifabelle  was  dead  ;  arid  Ferdinand,  who  1 
cordially  loved  Columbus  eagerly  caught  at  a.v  op- 
portunity, however  frivolous,  to  difgrace  a  man 
unexpected  fuccelTes'werc  a  canftant  reproach  to  him. 

Pofle/Ied  of  a  princely  fortune,  beloved  by  his  friends, 
and  (even  fallen  as  he  was  from  power)  Mill  feared  by 
his  enemies,  furrounded  by  a  loving  and  beloved  fami- 
ly, Columbus  might  have  been  expected  to  enjoy  many 
years  of  uninterrupted  tranquillity.  But,  alas  !  his 
noble  heart  was  wounded  paft  cure.  It  was  not  pow- 
er he  had  coveted  from  the  iiri'  ;  wealth  he  defj 
titles  were   ben  a.h  his  notice  ;  it  was  honour,  untar- 

■ 


58  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

niftied  and  unfullied  fame,  he  fought.  The  one  had 
been  twice  involved  in  fuipicion,  and  the  other  was 
threatened  to  be  wreftcd  from  him  ;  for  many  of  the 
creatures  that  infefted  the  court  of  Ferdinand,  pre- 
tended that  die  difcovery  of  the  vaft  continent  now- 
called  America,  was  nothing  extraordinary  ;  and  that 
many  had  rpoken  oi"  it  as  a  thing  more  than  poffible 
long  before  Columbus  attempted  it.  Befides  this,  a 
report  was  fpread  that  the  continent  had  been  former- 
ly difcovered  by  fome  mariners  who  were  ihipwrecked 
on  its  coaft,  and  providentially  returned  to  their  native 
country  ;  that  the  chief  of  diefe  mariners,  being  en- 
tertained at  the  houfe  of  Columbus's  father  whilft  he 
was  yet  a  boy,  he  had  liftened  attentively  to  the  de- 
fcriptions  he  gave  of  its  fituation,  latitude,  and  com- 
puted diftance  from  Europe  ;  that  he  had  trcafured 
this  in  his  memory,  and  the  old  mariner  dying  foon 
after,  Columbus  had  impofed  the  difcovery  on  the 
world  as  his  own,  the  fruit  of  indefatigable  applica- 
tion, and  invenfe  ftudy. 

Thcfe  reports,  which  were  malicioufly  circulated  by 
his  enemies,  preyed  on  his  fpirits.  His  health  daily 
declined  ;  his  appetite  fprfook  him,  and  reft  was  a  ftran- 
£er  to  his  pillow.  He  Ihunned  the  fociety  even  of  his 
neareft  connexions  ;  he  would  fpend  whole  days  in  his 
clofet,  where  he  had  carefully  preferved  his  chains,  and 
I  have  often  furprifed  him  weeping  over  them  like  an 
infant.  Life  became  a  burthen  to  him,  grievous  to 
fupport,  and  it  pleafed  Heaven  to  releafe  him  from  it 
on  the  20th  of  May,  1506. 

What  my  furFerings  were,  thus  deprived  oi"  my  firft 
and  deareft  friend  and  companion,  it  is  impofi.ole  to 
give  you  any  idea  of.  For  many  months,  I  Unit  my- 
ielf  from  the  fight  of  all  ;  even  the  prefence  of  your 
father  and  mother  were  painful  to  me.  Their  afflic- 
tion was  fcarcely  lefs  poignant  than  mine,  and  the  moil 
luxurious  moments  any  of  us  knew,  were  when  we  were 
recounting  the  virtues,  and  weeping  over  the  memory 
of  our  departed  hero.  But  from  thefe  tender  indul- 
gences we  were  aroufed  by  a  furious  war  breaking 
out  between  Spain  and  the  Ottoman  Empire.  Num- 
bers 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  59 

bers  of  volunteers,  gentlemen  of  the  firft  rank,  prepar- 
ed to  repel  thefe  invading  Moors. 

Ferdinando  inherited  the  fpirit  of  his  father ;  his 
country  required  his  aid,  and  unafked,  he  offered  it. 
During  a  war  of  feven  years,  your  mother  and  myfelf 
(who  remained  retired  in  Valladolid)  law  him  but 
three  times.  His  viiits  were  always  fliort,  and  our 
fears  for  his  fafety  were  fo  great  and  multiplied,  that 
the  pain  of  parting  more  than  counterbalanced  the 
pleasures  of  meeting.  His  lait  recefs  from  arms  was 
four  months,  during  the  winter  of  15 14.  At  parting, 
he  tenderly  embraced  me.  On  taking  leave  of  his 
wife,  who  after  fo  many  years  again  gave  him  hopes 
of  becoming  a  father,  he  entreated  her,  lhould  he  not 
return  before  the  birth  of  his  child,  and  it  lhould  prove 
a  girl,  that  fne  would  have  it  chriftened  Ifabellc.  "  It 
was  the  wifh  of  our  late  royal  Jniftrfefs,"  faid  he,  "  that 
one  of  our  children  lhould  bear  her  name.  She  is 
now  no  more  ;  but  the  imalleft  wiih  of  the  patronefs 
of  my  departed  father  will  ever  be  a  command  to  me.'* 
"  And  to  me,"  laid  Orrabella  ;  "  if  my  child  is  a  fe- 
male, Ifabellc  (hall  be  her  name."  Your  father  again 
embraced  us,  ble/fed  us,  and  departed. 

The  war  continued  with  unabated  fury  on  both 
fides.  Ferdinando  was  in  conftant  and  dangerous 
fervice.  Six  months  palTed,  and  no  hopes  of  his  re- 
turn ;  at  the  expiration  of  that  period,  you,  my  dear 
child,  were  bom  ;  and  in  ten  days  after,  j  oil  were  bap- 
tized by  the  name  of  Ifabelle. 

Your  mother  had  not  left  her  apartment,  when  one 
day  as  we  were  fitting  by  the  window,  we  perceived  a 
courier  riding  full- {peed  up  the  avenue  that  led  to  the 
houfe.  I  left  the  room  to  take  the  exprefs,  my  heart 
foreboding  fatal  tidings,  and  wiihing  to  conceal 
them  as  long  as  poflible  from  your  mother.  But  as 
I  went  down  the  front  (lairs,  a  fervant,  who  had  re- 
ceived the  packet  from  the  mefTenger,  ran  up  the 
back  way,  and  delivered  it  into  the  hands  of  the  un- 
fortunate Orrabella.  She  opened  it,  fhs  read.  Fer- 
dinando was  no  more,  and  I  returned  to  the  apart- 
ment julf  time  enough  to  fave  her  from  falling  to  the 

floor. 


Co  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

floor.  Violent  convulAons  Succeeded  each  other  ;  and 
before  morning,  my  poor  little  Ifabelle  was  an  orphan. 
I  fupportod  myfelf  through  fuch  accumulated 
miferv,  Heaven  (who  no  doubt  ailifted  me)  alone  can 
tell. 

It  was  many  days  before  I  could  fummon  refo- 
lution  to  examine  the  fatal  packet  particularly.  When 
I  did,  I  found  my  brave  fon  had  fallen  glorioufly  in 
fingle  combat  with  the  heir  to  the  Ottoman  fceptre  ; 
that  he  few  his  antagoniA iall,  and  died  triumphing  in 
the  excellency  of  his  own  religion,  and  exhorting  all 
around  him  to  perfevere  to  the  end.  I  wept  at  the 
i  f  my  child,  but  I  gloried  in  his  faith,  valour  and 
conftancy  in  the  Chriftian  caufe. 

From  that  time,  my  life  has  been  a  continued  blank. 
I  have  fcen  but  little  company.  My  nephew,  the 
marquis  Guidova,  fon  to  a  brother  of  mine,  the  off- 
spring of  a  marriage  daat  my  father  contracted  after 
my  union  with  your  grandfather,  with  two  aiSiable 
young  women  his  fitters,  and  a  charming  creature 
whom  he  had  made  his  wife,  were  the  only  lbciety 
that  afforded  me  any  Satisfaction.  I  endure  ceremo- 
nious vifits,  it  is  true  ;  but  I  always  feel  them  infup- 
portably  tedious,  and  impatiently  look  for  the  moment 
when  the  departure  of  my  gueils  would  releafe  me, 
and  1  might  either  unbend  my  mind  in  obferving  your 
innocent  fports,  or  in  deep  folitnde,  by  reflection  and 
hope,  be  again  united  to  thole  departed  objccls  of  my 
affections,  Columbus,  Ferdinando  and  Orrabella. 

In  lei's  than  a  twelvemonth  after  the  death  of  your 
parents,  I  made  my  will.  For  the  contents  and  mean- 
ing of  that  nuill,  I  refer  you  to  the  beginning  of  this 
long  cpiftle,  which,  at  hours  when  my  ftrength  and 
fphrits  would  permit  the  employment,  I  have  been 
nearly  three  months  in  writing.  And  now,  my  dear 
Ifabelle,  I  bid  you  adieu.  May  yen  poflefs  all  the 
virtr.es  of  your  father  and  grandfather,  all  the  beauty 
and  fortitude  of  your  mother,  and  he  ever  exempt 
from  the  forrows  that  have  lacerated  the  heart  of 

BEATINA. 

.    '  Your 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  6t 

Your  chief  attendant  was  your  mother's  favour- 
ite Indian  fervant,  Cora.  Should  (he  live  till  you 
reach  the  years  of  maturity,  be  to  her  a  firm  friend  ; 
her  attachment  to  your  parents,  and  affection  for 
yourfelf,  has  been  unbounded  ;  let  your  gratitude  be 
the  fame. 

Columbia  had  read,  and  paufed,  and  wept,  and 
read  again,  till,  in  her  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  Orra- 
bella,  me  had  forgot  what  me  fo  earneftly  had  wilhed 
to  know,  concerning  the  marriage  of  her  mother. 
The  conclufion  of  the  manufcript,  however,  brought  it 
freih  to  her  memory.  She  turned  the  paper  on  all 
fides  ;  no  farther  intelligence  was  to  be  gleaned  from 
that.  But  Cora,  Cora  had  been  particularly  mention- 
ed, as  flrongly  attached  to  the  lady  Ifabelle.  No 
doubt  Hie  could  inform  her  of  all  fhe  wiflicd  to  know. 
She  had  no  fooner  conceived  the  idea,  than,  folding' 
the  papers  which  Ihe  replaced  in  the  efcritoire,  flic 
locked  the  drawer,  and  haftily  fought  the  apartment 
of  her  aged  fervant. 

••<  •<•<■■<  <«^J4*-J3°> ••> ■•» ■■>■  >  • 

CHAP.       IX. 

Supplication,  Rejection,   Compliance. 

"  T  HAVE  read  all  the  papers,"  faid  Columbia,  feat- 
1_  ing  herfelf  befide  Cora,  who  was  taking  her  even- 
ing's repaft  ;  "  I  have  read  them  all,  but  they  do  not 
give  me  any  account  of  my  father,  or  how  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  lady  Ifabelle."  "  I  did  not  fup- 
pofe  they  would,"  replied  Cora,  fipping  with  affecled 
unconcern  fome  milk  which  flood  before  her,  and  then 
breaking  into  it  the  remainder  of  a  flice  of  brown 
bread,  which  lay  befide  it. 

"  Well,  but  dear  Cora,"   faid  Columbia,  laving  her 

right  arm  over  her  old  fervant's  flioulder,  and' looking 

with  finding  eameftnefs  in  her  face  ;  "  but  dear  Cora, 

I  dare  fay  you  could  tell  mc  all  about  it.'*     «  Oh  • 

G-  not 


Cn  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

not  I,"  flic  replied,  putting  from  her  with  a  reje&ing 
i  the  lovely  arm  that  encircled  her  neck  ;  "  not 
I,  indeed.  I  tell  a  ftory  fo  badly,  and  make  fo  many 
Repetitions,  and  am  Jo  tedious  and  minute,  you  would 
have  uo  patience  to  liiten  ;  fo  you  and  Mina  may  go 
and  walk,  and  I'll  go  to  bed,  and  then,  you  know,  we 
mall  both  be  fatisfied." 

"  Nay  but,  dear,  dear  Cora,  now  don't  be  angry. 
Pray  forgive  me  if  I  was  a  naughty  girl,  and  impa- 
tiently would  not  give  you  leave  to  tell  the  ftory  your 
own  way.  Only  infirm  me  how  my  mother  became 
acquainted  with,  and  afterwards  married  to,  an  En- 
gliloman,  and  a  Proteftant,  and  I  will  promife  not  to 
interrupt  you  from  the  beginning  of  your  ftory  to  the 
end." 

"  Aye,  to  be  fure,"  laid  Cora,  "we  are  mighty  con- 
defcending  now.  O  my  confeience,  there  is  nothing 
like  curiofity  to  make  a  young  lady  gentle  and  com- 
plying. This  morning  it  was,  Be  quiet,  Cora,  and 
pray  hold  your  tongue.  Hold  my  tongue  indeed  j, 
why  I  warrant  I  could  have  told  you  every  thing 
that  happened,  as  well  as  thofe  letters.  But  you 
liked  reading  the  letters  beft  then,  and  fo  mayhap 
you  may  find  fome  more  to-morrow  that  will  tell  you 
every  thing  you  wifti  to  know." 

"  'Tis  well,"  faid  Columbia,  fomewhat  haughtily, 
"  I  will  go  to  my  mother.  She  referred  me  to  you  ; 
but  Jince  you  do  n^t  choofc  to  comply  with  her  defires, 
1  will  from  her  mouth  requcft  a  recital  of  events, 
which,  however  the  recollection  of  them  may  make 
her  own  heart  bleed  afrefli,  fhe  will,  I  am  Jure,  re- 
count, to  gratify  the  laudable  curioJity  of  her  child. 
You,  Cora,  may  go  to  bed  and  reft  ;  your  lady,  the 
daughter  of  the  prmcefs  Orrabella,  and  her  unfortu- 
nate offspring,  will  pads  the  night  in  forrow.  She  in 
tears  of  bitter  remembrance,  and  I  in  lamenting  af- 
flictions I  cannot  but  feel,  though  I  have  not  the  pow- 
er to  alleviate." 

This  was  attacking  Cora  in  the  moft  vulnerable 
part.  "  Stay,"  faid  fhe,  catching  hold  of  Columbia's 
re-be,  "  flay,  my  dear  young  l.a/Jy,  but"  a  few  mo- 
ments, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  tfj 

rrients,  and  I  will  tell  you  all."  "  That's  my  good 
Cora,"  faid  ihe,  kifllng  her  cheek  with  affeclion  ;  <l  I 
will  now  go  and  take  leave  of  my  mother  for  the 
night.  You  ihall  go  to  bed,  Mina,  and  I  will  come 
and  fit  beiide  you.  We  will  put  out  the  candle.  For 
you  know  the  moon  Alines  lull  into  your  chamber, 
and  I  always  think  a  ftory  doubly  interceding  when  it 
is  told  by  moonlight. 

This  arrangement  made,  Columbia  went  to  the 
apartment  of  her  mother,  and  partook  or  a  High! 
repair.  But  little  converfation  paffed  between  them. 
Ii'abelle  was  buried  in  reflection,  and  the  mind  of  h-.  r 
daughter  fully  occupied  by  the  events  ilie  had  been  fo 
lately  made  acquainted  with,  mixed  with  a  reitlels  im- 
patience to  repair  to  the  chamber  of  Cora.  Supper 
finilhed,  Ihe  requeued  leave  to  retire  ;  and  Mina,  being 
diimuled  from  her  attendance  on  the  1  •  Jy  Ilabelle, 
they  feated  themfelves  on  the  lide  of  Cora's  bed,  who 
eagerly  began  the  promifed  recital. 

•"  The  old  lady  Beatina  died  when  your  mother  was 
not  feven  years  old,  and  fo  the  Marquis  Guidova 
thought  it  licit  only  to  leave  a  few  people  juft  to  take- 
care  of  the  houfe  and  plcalure  grounds  in  Valladolid  ;• 
and  difcharging  the  reft  of  the  fcrvants,  take  my  yoifng 
lady  \\i;h  him  to  Madrid,  where  he  for  the  molt  part 
lived.  He  was  a  good  gentleman,  and  his  lady,  Hea- 
ven blefs  her,  was  as  kind  a  gentlewoman  as  ever 
breathed.  They  were  as  fond  of  your  mother  as 
though  (he  had  been  their  own  child  ;  but  who  could 
help  loving  her  ?  She  was,  fo  condefcending,  fo  benevo- 
lent, fo  good-natured,  and  more  than  that,  fo  beauti- 
ful. So  there  was  matters  hired  to  teach  her  every 
thing,  that  ladies  of  quality  generally  learn,  and  they 
ufed  to  fay  they  had  no  trouble  in  teaching  her  ;  for 
ihe  underilood  every  thing  they  told  her  in  a  minute, 
and  never  forgot  what  Ihe  had  once  learnt. 

"  Many  cavaliers  and  gentlemen  fought  her  for 
their  bride  before  Ihe  was  fifteen.  Not  a  family  in 
the  Court  of  Spain  but  would  have  thought  it  a  high 
honour  to  have  had  her  for  a  daughter-in-law.  The 
young  King  of  Spain  ufed  to  caH  her  a  ftax  of  the  firft 

magnitude  ; 


$4  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

magnitude  ;  a  gem  fit  for  the  crown  of  a  prince,  and 
many  other  fuch  pretty  names.  But  lhe,  fwect 
lady,  was  never  made  proud  or  conceited  by  thefe 
praifes,  but  was  always  lhe  Tame  humble,  affable  crea- 
ture as  ever.  Then  (he  was  fo  pious  !  Ah,  when  lhall 
|  fee  ?    i  [er  behaviour  was  an  example,  ad- 

mired by  al],  but   1  am  afraid  followed  by  very  few. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  faying,  many  noble  gentlemen 
fought  to  win  her  love,  but  fhe  was  indifferent  to  them 
all ;  and  at  the  age  (;f  eighteen,  was  flill  unmarried. 
At  that  time,  Sir  Thomas  Arundel  arrived  at  the 
Spanilh  Court.  He  was  travelling  to  finifh  his  educa- 
tion, and  came  with  a  defign  of  parting  a  few  months 
in  Madrid,     Ah  !  he  was  a  brave  gentleman." 

"Yes,"  faid  Cplumbia  cxukingly,  "my  father  was 
a.  brave  man,  a  worthy  man,  an  honour  to  human 
nature." 

"  Aye,  but,"  replied  Cora,  "  he  was  much  hand- 
fomer  then,  fo  tall  and  graceful,  fuch  fine  blue  eyes, 
and  fuch  a  complexion,  fo  fair  and  ruddy,  and  his 
beautiful  dark  brown  hair  fell  in  fuch  becoming  ring- 
lets round  his  face  and  lhouldei-s,  that  he  looked  like 
fomething  more  than  mortal." 

**  Why,  Cora,"  faid  Mina,  laughing,  "  you  defcribe 
his  perfon  with  fuch  rapture,  that  I  do  believe  you 
fell  in  love  with  him  yourfelf."  "  Heaven  help  me  I" 
cried  the  old  woman,  "  that  would  have  been  a  fine 
flory  truly  !  No,  no,  I  knew  my  ftation  better.  Be- 
fides,  I  was  old  enough  to  be  his  mother.  I  could; 
not  fhut  my  eyes,  you  know,  and  I  hope  there  was  no 
harm  in  admiring  what  1  faw." 

44 No,  to  be  fure,"  faid  Columbia,  "and  I  dare  fay 
my   dear  mother  admired  him   as  much  as  you  did." 

"  Indeed  fhe  did,"  replied  Cora  ;  "  he  was  intro- 
duced to  the  Marcmis  by  the  Duke  dc  Medina,  and  in^ 
vited  by  him  to  a  lplendid  entertainment  which  he 
gave  to  all  the  foreigners  of  diftincYion  at  that  time 
refident  at  the  Court  of  Spain.  Oh  !  how  beautiful 
did  my  dear  lady  Ifabelle  look  on  that  day  ;  her  drefs 
was  always  plain,  but  it  was  always  becoming,  and 
more  than  ufually  fo  at  that  time.     N©  wonder  the 

young 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  6$ 

young  Eng  iihm.m  was  captivated  at  firft  fight.  I 
could  have  gazed  at  her  for  the  whole  day  without 
being  tired  ;  what  then  muft  he  feel,  who  had  never 
before  feen  a  woman  fo  charming  ?  For  to  excel  her, 
I  am  fare  would  be  impofli  ill  was  given  in 

the  evening;  Arundel' danced  with  your  mother. 
Every  eye  was  turned  upon  them  as  Lhey  gracefully' 
and  lightly  followed  the  muiic.  Every  tongue  mur- 
mured their  pr.iiie. 

"  When  the  lady  Ifabelle  retired  for  the  night,  me 
afked  me  if  I  had  feen  the  accomplilhcd  cavalier 
Arundel,  and  whether  I  did  not  think  him  very  hand- 
fome.  "  I  have  been  deaf  to  all  my  loves  as  yet,"  laid 
fhe,  fmiling  ;  "  but  I  believe,  Cora,  if  Arundel  ihojdd 
aik  my  hand,  I  lliould  not  long  withhold  it."  The 
next  morning,  as  lhe  was  riling,  the  whole  of  her  dif- 
courie  was  on  the  gallant  Englilhrnan  ;  and  lhe 
not  help  wifhing  to  lee  him  again,  and  wondering 
whether  he  thought  of  her  as  much  as  lhe  did  of  him. 
Whilft  lhe  was  prattling  on  in  her  lively  innocent 
manner,  the  Marchionefs  Guidova  entered  the  ::part- 
ment. 

"  Ifabelle,  my  love,"  (aid  (he,  u  I  have  fome  papers 
in  my  polfellion,  which  I  blame  myfelf  for  not  having 
earlier  entrufted  to  your  perufal.      Here  are  fome  con- 
fidential letters  which    palled  between  your  fathei 
his  parents  ;  and  here  is  a  packet  addrened  to  you,  my 
love.      It   was   written  by  yoUr  grandmother  d 
the  lall  years  of  her  life.      It   will  inform  you  of 
particulars  in  her  will,   which  it  is  neceflary  for  you 
to  know.     You  are  then  llriclly  forbid  to  unite  yourfelf 
to  a  man  who  profefies  the  reformed  religion. 

"  The  Marquis  and  myfelf  could  not  but  obferve  lall 
night  the  pointed  attentions,  and  undifguifed  admira- 
tion, with  which  Sir  Thomas  Arundel  addrened 
and  I  think  it  is  not  unlikely  but  lie  may  requeft  you  in 
marriage.  Now,  my  dear  Ifabelle,  Arundel  is  a  i'trict 
Protellant.  This,  you  arc  fcnlible,  will  place  an  in- 
furmountable  barrier  between  you.  And  fearful  rh.it 
my  dear  girl  might  let  her  heart  be  allured  !..  ;ui 
agreeable  perfon  and  inl'muating  addrefs  before  the 
G  2  kn  n 


66  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

knew  the  fatal  confequences  that  muft  refult  from 
fuch  an  indulgence,  I  would  no  longer  delay  requcft- 
ing  you  to  give  a  few  hours  ferious  attention  to  the 
pap ers  I  here  leave  with  you,  particularly  that  writ- 
ten by  your  grandmother." 

"  When  the  Marchionefs  had  thus  fpoke,  (he  em- 
braced the  lady  Ilabellc,  who  had  not  once  attempted 
an  anfwer  }  and  laying  the  papers  on  the  table,  left 
the  apartment. 

"  While  the  Marchionefs  was  fpeaking,  I  had  retir- 
ed, out  of  refpect,  to  a  window  at  the  moft  diftant 
part  of  the  room  ;  but  I  now  approached  my  young 
lady,  and  found  her  pale,  trembling,  and  her  eyes 
brimfull  of  tears.  "My  fate,  I  fear,  is  fixe3,  Cora,** 
faid  lhe.  "  My  heart  has  hitherto  been  infenfible  to 
the  admiration  and  love  I  heard  numbers  daily  pro- 
fefs  for  rrte  ;  but  though  fo  lately  acquainted  with 
him,  I  had,  almoft  unknown  to  myfelf,  fuffercd  a  wiih 
to  rife,  that  Arundel  might  be  the  man  defigned  to  be 
my  huuSand.  It  is  true,  I  never  law  him  till  yefter- 
day  ;  but  to  his  chara^ffer  I  am  no  ftranger.  Fame 
fpeaks  highly  of  his  honour,  integrity  and  wildom. 
But  I  am  told  our  fates  can  never  be  united.  If  fo, 
a  convent  fhall  be  my  choice,  and  I  will  Unit  myfclf 
from  a  world  that  will,  I  greatly  fear,  contain  no 
charms  for  me,  when  deprived  of  the  hope  of  fharing 
the  fate  of  Arundel." 

"  She  then  hailily  finiflied  dre fling,  and  difmifled  me  ; 
nor  did  I  lee  the  dear  lady  again,  till  noon.  Oh  !  how 
her  fweet  countenance  was  altered  fince  the  morning. 
She  was  bathing  her  eyes  in  water,  in  hopes  to  take 
off  the  rednefs ;  but  it  was  in  vain.  The  traces  of 
her  tears  ftill  remained  upon  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes 
were  funk  and  heavy.  The  papers  lay  open  on  the 
table  before  her ;  lhe  fpoke  but  little  to  me ;  and 
though  when  lhe  did  fpeak,  fhe  forced  a  fmile,  I 
could  fee  her  poor  heart  was  almoft  breaking. 

"  The  Marquis  had  rightly  judged,  that  Arundel 
was  enamoured   of  my  lady  ;  for  on   the  very  next 
day,  he  took   an  opportunity  to  call,  when  he  knew 
the  Marquis  was  at  the  levee,  and  going  into  the  gar- 
den, 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.         67 

den,  as  he  faid  to  amufe  himfelf  till  die  Marquis's  re- 
turn, he  fent  one  of  the  fervants  to  defire  I  would 
grant  him  a  few  minutes'  converfation.  I  went,  you 
may  be  fure  ;  for  I  gueffed  his  errand,  and  thought 
it  no  harm  to  pity  him,  and  hear  what  he  had  to  lay 
on  the  fubjecl.  So  as  I  was  faying,  I  went,  and  he 
alked  me  a  thoufand  queftions  about  die  lady  Ilkbelle  ; 
as  whether  flie  was  engaged,  whether  Jhe  had  ever 
mentioned  him,  and  whether  it  was  with  diilike  or 
approbation.  Oh  !  Mils  Columbia,  he  was  a  fine 
fyoken  man  ;  it  would  have  done  your  heart  good  t<j 
have  heard  him. 

"Your  lady  is  an  angel,  Cora,  "faid  he;  "and  I  ftiould 
think  my felf  but  too  happy  to  be  permitted  to  weaf 
out  my  life  in  her  fervicc.  I  mean  to  aflc  her  of  her 
guardian  ;  but  as  I  would  firll  be  alTured,  that  by  lb 
doing  I  offer  no  violence  to  her  heart,  I  have  written 
to  her.  Take  this  letter,  then,  my  good  Cora,  and 
deliver  it  into  the  hands  of  your  divine  miftrefs.  To- 
morrow I  will  expect  an  anfwer,  and  my  future  con- 
duel  mail  be  regulated  by  her  commands.  Be  not 
alarmed,  (for  I  drew  back  as  he  offered  me  the  letter) 
be  not  alarmed  ;  I  fwear  to  you,  I  have  nothing  but 
honour  in  my  thoughts."  He  then  forced  the  letter 
into  my  hand,  and  with  it  his  purfe,  containing  about 
twenty  ducats  ;  and  at  that  moment  hearing  the  Mar- 
quis's voice  in  the  garden  inquiring  for  Arundel,  I 
could  neither  return  his  prefent,  nor  tell  him  of  how 
little  effect  his  letter  would  be  ;  iince  my  lady  was 
restricted  from  marrying  a  Proteltant.  But  the  exact 
terms  of  the  reftriction  I  did  not  then  know.  So,  as 
I  faid,  hearing  the  Marquis  coming,  I  was  glad  to 
avoid  meeting  him  ;  fo  turned  into  another  walk,  and 
made  the  belt  of  my  way  to  the  houfe. 

"  When  I  gave  your  dear  mother  the  letter,  flie  chid 
me  for  bringing  it,  me  helitated  for  fome  time  ;  but 
when  I  told  her  he  promifed  to  be  guided  by  her  com- 
mands, flie  opened  and  read  it.  Then  bidding  me 
bring  her  pen  and  ink,  flie  wrote  an  anfwer,  frequently 
flopping  to  wipe  off  the  tears  that  guflied  into  her 
eyes. 

"  From 


68  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  From  this  time  for  above  a  fortnight,  letters  pafi*-- 
ed  between  them  every  day.  My  poor  lady  grew 
penlive,  languid,  and  .avoided  company  ;  fpent  great 
part  of  every  night  in  writing  ;  and  in  the  day  time, 
every  moment  when  flic  thought  nobody  obferved 
her,  (he  would  read  over  the  letters  of  Arundel. 

"  At  length  (he  told  me  one  evening,  that  ihe  had 
promifcd  to  give  him  an  interview.  "  He  laps  here 
to-night,"  did  (he,  "and  after  Hipper  will  retire  to  the 
alcove  on  the  call  fide  of  the  garden,  and  thither  I 
have  promifed  to  go  to  meet  him  ;  and  you,  Cora, 
mull;  go  v  ith  me." 

"  I  felt  as  though  it  would  be  right  to  perfuade  her 
not  to  go,  but  did  not  know  how  to  begin  ;  nor  could 
I  rightly  comprehend  how  (as  they  both  worshipped, 
the  fame  God) 'the  differing  in  a  few  trifling  forms 
and  ceremonies  could  make  it  fuch  a  crime  for 
them  to  marry,.  I  thought  perhaps  the  Marquis  and 
his- lady  might  be  angry  at  firft,  but  that  they  loved 
her  fo  well  they  would  foon  be.  reconciled.  After 
this  interview,  the  whole  of  which  I  did  not  hear,  and 
what  I  did  hear  I  did  not  fully  underftand,  only  this 
I  know,  that  Sir  Thomas  Arundel  fpoke  lb  finely,  that 
he  made  me  cry  more  than  once  ;  the  lady  Ifabclle 
told  him,  that  by  marrying  a  Protectant  (he  ihould  for- 
feit her  whole  fortune.  "  And  what  of  that,  my  love* 
ly.  Ifabelle,"  laid  lie,  "I  have  fortune  encugh  for  us 
both,  it  is  your  invaluable  fell"  I. adore  ;  yen  Hatter 
me  ;  I  am  not  indifferent  to  your  generous  heart  ; 
why  then  does  my  charmer  iiefitate  ?  Let  me  call, 
this  dear  hand  mine  ;  and  my  wealth,  which  is  more 
than  enough  for  all  the  comforts,  nay,  even  the  ele- 
gancies of  life,  will  be  happily  employed,  if  it  can  pro- 
cure a  moment's .fatisfadtion  for  the  idol  (  t    my  foul.',' 

"  Take  me  not  thus  by  furprife,"  replied  your  moth- 
er ;.•  "  give  me  a  few  days  to  reflect  ferionlly,  and  your 
generous  propofal  iliail  have  an  ingenuous  and  candid 
anfwer.  Believe  rr.e,  Arundel,  I  will  examine  my 
heart  with  the  minuted  fcrutiny  ;  and  if  1  find  its  at- 
tachment to  you  unconquerable,  I  will  not  infult  the 
majefty  of  Heaven  by  making  prof effions  with  my  lips 

which 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  69 

which  my  foul  would  refufe  to  ratify.  I  will  then 
openly,  in  the  face  of  the" world,  avow  my  choice  ;  and 
if  I  do  fo,  we  will  not  have  different  intevchs  in  i'o  le- 
rious  a  concern  as  our  evcrlafting  peace  in  futurity.. 
No,  Arundel,  if  I  become  your  wile,  I  embrace  your 
religion.  Your  faith  lhall  be  my  faith,  your  God  my 
God." 

"  She  then  fuffered  him  to  kifs  her  hand,  and  lean- 
ing on  my  arm,  returned  to  her  apartment. 

"  I  fay,  after  this  interview,  my  lady  became  more 
compofed  ;  in  fome  meaiure  regained  her  wonted 
cheerfulncfs,  and  the  Marquis  was  pleafed  to  perceive 
a  fadneis  wearing  off,  the  fource  of  which  he  had  been 
afraid  to  inquire  into. 

"  It  was  about  ten  days  from  this  time,  that  my  lady 
afked  me  if  I  would  <^o  mth  her  to  England.  "  For 
I  am  refolved,  Cora,"  faid  ihe,  M  to  lhare  the  fate  of 
Arundel.  This  day  I  mean  to  avow  my  defigns  to 
my  guardian,  and  relinquifh  my  eftates  to  my  coulin. 
Will  you,  then,  follow  the  ruined  fortunes  of  your 
poor  miftrefs  I" 

**  Will  I  r"  faid  I,  throwing  my  arms  round  her  ; 
"  can  any  tiling  but  death  ever  feparate  me  from  you  ?" 

M  It  was  towards  the  evening  of  this  day,  that  the 
lady  Ifabelle  fent  me  to  requeli;  the  Marquis,  his  lady, 
and  their  eldeft,  fon,  would  grant  her  half  an  hour's 
coiwerfation.  They  returned  for  anfver,  t'nat  they 
were  perfectly  at  liberty,  and  awaited  her  prcience  in 
the  faloon.  She  then  bade  me  go  into  the  garden,  where 
lhe  knew  Arundel  was  waiting,  and  bid  him  come  to 
her.  He  obeyed  the  fummons,  and  they  entered  the 
faloon  together.  It  was  then  your  noble  mother  de- 
clared to  her  guardian  and  his  family  the  rcfolution 
fhc  had  taken.  "  Had  you  entrufted  me,"  laid  ihe, 
v  earlier  with  the  contents  of  my  grandmother's  will,  I 
might  have  been  upon  my  guard  ;  but  my  heart  was  ir- 
revocably gone  before  I  knew  it  was  a  crime  to  lpve  a 
Proteftant.  Having  made  my  election,  I  do  not  fcru 
pie  to  confefs,  that,  deprived  of  Arundel,  I  would  nev- 
er unite  with  any  other  man.  Secluiion  from  th  * 
wgrid  would  have  been  my  next  choice  ;  but  rcaibn 

■and 


70  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

and  religion  told  me,  that  a  heart  throbbing  with  all 
the  anxieties  of  a  disappointed  pallion,  is  not  a  fit  la- 
crifice  to  be  offered  to  a  Being  of  infinite  purity.  My 
fortune  I  refign  to  my  couiin,  and  wiih  him  as  much 
happinefs  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  as  I  feel  in  rclinquifh- 
ing  it.  My  pcrfonal  ornaments  I  imagine  are  my 
»wn.  To-morrow  I  ihall  btftow  them  and  myfelf  on 
Arundel  ;  and  in  becoming  his  wife,  I  embrace  the 
Proteftant  perfuafion." 

"  When  my  lady  had  finifhed  {peaking,  fhe  gave 
her  hand  to  your  father,  who  fpoke  fomething  very 
handibme,  though  I  can't  remember  what.  But  I 
know  the  old  Marquis  raved,  hisfon  looked  quite  hap- 
py, the  Marchionefs  cried.  One  moment  embracing 
lady  Ifabelle,  and  entreating  her  to  remember  her 
grandmother's  laft  injunctions,  and  not  forfeit  her  eter- 
nal peace  by  quitting  the  bofom  of  the  holy  mother 
church  ;.  then  fhe  would  entreat  her  ion  not  to  enforce 
the  will  to  its  full  extent,  but  to'  be  content  to  divide 
the  fortune  with  his  couiin.  Oh  !  dearee  me,  it  was 
a  terrible  night  ;  for  what  with  the  rage  of  the  on* 
and  the  tears  of  the  other,  my  poor  lady  was  almolt 
di  (traded.. 

"  Well,  fure  enough  the  ne-xt  morning  fhe  was  mar- 
ried, and  in  a  few  days  they  let  off  for  England.  On 
our  arrival  in  London,  fhe  public  kly  abjured  the  Ro- 
mifh  religion,  and  would  have  had  me  do  the  fame  ; 
but  I  thought  changing  my  religion  once  in  my  life 
was  enough.  I  was  taught  by  the  good  lady  Beatina, 
to  worfhip  one  God,  and  to  look  for  eternal  falvatioa 
through  the  merits  of  a  Redeemer  ;  to  be  humane 
and  charitable  to  all  mankind  ;  and  to  the  extent  of 
my  weak  power,  I  have  endeavoured  to  practife  what 
fhe  taught.  And  I  hope  I  lhall,  when  I  die,  go  to 
heaven  as  well  as  if  I  had  changed  my  religion  twen- 
ty times." 

"  You  cannot  change  for  the  better,  my  good  Coi 
ra,"  laid  Columbia  ;  "  yet  you  muit  not  blame  my 
mother." 

"  Blame,"  cried  Cora,  haftily  ;  "  no  indeed  ;  the 
lady  Ifabelle  never  did  any  thing  that  deferved  blame. 

She 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  71 

She  had  fenfe  and  education  to  underhand  what  fne 
was  doing  ;  but  I  was  weak  and  ignorant,  and  feared 
by  renouncing  one  error,  I  might  perhaps  fall  into  a 
greater." 

"  Well  but,  Cora,  what  was  the  caufe  of  my  father's 
ruin  ?  He  was  a  man  of  family  and  fortune,  and  though 
I  perfectly  remember  him,  and  recollect  that  I  had 
not  feen  him  for  fomc  months  before,  I  loft  him  forever. 
I  (hall  never  forget  the  day  on  which  I  was  told  he 
died.  My  dear  mother,  who  had  been  abfent  fome 
days,  was  brought  home  in  a  ftate  almoft  bordering 
On  diftraction.  She  embraced  me,  called  me  her  dear 
orphan  girl,  wept,  wrung  her  hands,  and  then  damping 
them,  cried,  Oh  !  my  Arundel,  you  are  loft  to  me, 
but  I  truft  you  are  reaping  the  heavenly  reward  of 
your  faith,  conftancy  and  fidelity.  She  then  fent  me 
from  her,  and  a  few  weeks  after  we  came  to  this  old 
Caftle.  I  did  not  half  like  it,  Cora,  nor  am  I  quite 
leconciled  to  it  now.  Thoie  old  ruins  at  the  well 
(  nd,  the  long  gallery  that  leads  to  it,  the  great  arched 
gate-way  thai  li<>ks  ready  to  fall  down,  and  the  nafty 
moat  full  of  green  water,  fill  me  with  terror  and  dif- 
guft  ;  and  if  it  was  not  for  the  little  garden  that  Mat- 
thias has  done  up  fo  cleverly,  and  the  pond  where  we 
£0  to  fiili,  I  Ibould  be  ready  to  die  with  nv.hir.ilu.lv. '' 

"And  fo  fhould  I,"  faid  Mina,  "and  with  fear  too; 
for  they  people  about  here." 

"  Now  do  be  quiet,  Mina,"  faid  Columbia,  "  for  it 
trows  late,  and  I  want  Cora  to  rinilh  telling  about  my 
j.ulvr." 

Mina  was  filent,  and  Cora  continued.  "  Ah  I  my 
dear  Mils,  thole  were  fad  times  indeed  ;  it  was  then 
your  dear  mother  was  plunged  into  poverty  ;  for  y  u 
know,  your  lather  was  a  Proteftant.  Well,  lie  was  a 
favourite  with  our  young  Xing  Edward  the  Vlth.  and 
greatly  beloved  by  the  Protector  Duke  of  Somerfet. 
They  favoured  the  reformers  very  much.  And  there 
was  that  wicked  Biftiop  Gardiner,  who  was  for  burn- 
tag  and  hanging  every  body  that  did  not  fay  their 
prayers  juft  as  he  did.  He  hated  your  father  ;  and 
f  >  he,   and  fcvcral   others  as  wicked  as  himfclf,   laid  a 

plan 


72  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

plan  to  take  away  the  life  of  the  good  Duke  of  Som- 
crfet.  They  laid  he  bod  laid  a  plan  to  murder  the 
young  King,  and  accufed  my  worthy  mailer,  Sir 
Thomas  Arundel,  of  being  an  accomplice  ;  and  they 
threw  them  into  prifon,  and  a  great  many  more  good 
men  were  confined.  And  then  Gardiner,  and  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland,  and  others  of  his  enemies, 
pretended  to  have  a  regular  trial.  But  what  fort  of 
a  trial  was  that,  when  the  men  that  accufed  them  were 
the  judges  ?  So  they  condemned  them  all  to  fuffer 
death,  and  all  their  fubftance  was  forfeit  to  the  crown, 
as  they  called  it ;  but  I  warrant  thefe  righteous  judges 
had  pretty  pickings  out  of  them.  So  your  dear  father 
was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill,  and  all  his  eftates  feized 
on  by  thefe  robbers.  For  I  am  fure  they  deferve  no 
better  name  ;  for  Northumberland  only  took  away 
the  life  of  the  good  Duke  of  Somerfet,  that  he  might 
iupply  his  place  about  the  perfon  of  the  King,  and  lay 
a  plan  for  his  own  advantage.  For  he  pcrfuaded  the 
King  to  make  a  will,  and  appoint  the  lady  Jane  Grey, 
daughter  to  the  Marchioneis  of  Dorlet,  his  fucceffor  ; 
and  this  he  pretended  to  do  out  of  love  to  the  re- 
formed religion  ;  but  it  was  only  becaufe  ihe  was  mar- 
ried to  his  fon,  the  Lord  Guilford  Dudley.  But 
Heaven  puniihed  him  for  his  wickednefs,  in  the  ruin 
and  death  of  thofe  beloved  and  charming  children. 

"Oh!  what  a  heavenly  creature  lady  Jane  was; 
your  mother  loved  her  dearly.  She,  iweet  foul,  did 
;  >t  wilh  to  be  a  queen  ;  and  when,  on  the  death  of 
King  Edward,  they  offered  her  the  crown,  "  I  pray 
you  pardon  me,  my  friends,"  faid  lhe,  "  and  fuffer  me 
to  decline  this  honour ;  it  is  too  much  for  me,  frail 
mortal  that  I  am.  I  would  feek  an  eternal,  not  a  tem- 
poral crown  ;  and  much  I  fear  the  cares  and  anxieties 
attendant  on  the  one,  will  prove  a  hindrance  to  my  do- 
ino-  my  duty  neceffary  for  the  obtaining  of  the  other  ;" 
and  when  urged  to  comply,  lhe  bowed  her  head  in  to- 
ken of  affent.  She  faid  to  thofe  who  knelt  to  do  her 
homap^e,  "  Pray  rife,  my  friends,  this  is  mockery.  You 
think  I  am  afcending  a  throne ;  but  I  fee  clearer,  and 
perceive  it  is  a  fcaffold.     Heaven   pardon   me  this 

ufurpation, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  73 

ufurpation,  for  I  fee!  I  have  ho  right  to  the  i 

and  (hall  be  ready,  when  called  upon,   to  refign  them 

to  my  rightful  queen." 

When  Northumberland  told  her  it  was  for  the  good 
cf  the  Proteflant  caufe  that  fhe  fhould  aifume  tl  e 
reins  of  government,  flic  replied,  "  The  God  of  the 
Proteftants  is  all-fufncient  for  their  protection  ;  he  v.  ill 
not  fuffer  them  to  be  punifhed  or  perfecuted,  unlefs  Li 
1>e  for  his  own  v.  lie  purpofes,  to  prove  their  faith,  and 
bring  home  more  to  die  fold,  hie  needs  not  die  af- 
fiftance  of  my  feeble  arm.  However)  ihy  good  lord 
Duke,  if  you  think  you  arc  in  the  way  of  your  duty  in 
heaping  thefe  unrequired  honours  upon  me,  I  fubmit ; 
and  Heaven  forgive  us  both." 

"I  have  heard  Matthias,  who  was  in  London  at 
the  time,  repeat  her  w(  rds  fo  often,  that  1  cannot  be 
miftaken  in  repeating  them  again.  So  the  fwcet,  good 
lady  was  proclaimed  queen,  and  nine  days  after,  111* 
was  feized,  with  her  hufband  and  her  father-in-law, 
and  lent  to  the  tower,  and  foon  after  they  were  alJ  be- 
headed. And  fo  1  have  no  doubt  but  the  wicked  Duke 
repented,  before  he  died,  of  his  malice  to  the  c,ood 
lord  Protector  and  your  dear  father  ;  and  -when  lie 
came  to  lay  his  own  head  upon  the  block,  I  dare  fay 
lie  wiflied  he  never  had  been  the  means  of  bringing  fo 
many  innocent  people  there.  The  lady  Jane  left  one 
ion  by  lord  Dudley  ;  he  was  chriftened  Hcnrv  ;  but 
be  bears  neither  the  title,  nor  inherits  the  fortune  of 
his  lather,  more  (tame  for  them  that  have  wronged 
him  of  it." 

Here  Cora  ceafed  (peaking :  but  Columbia  was  un- 
able to  thank  her,  or  articulate  a  Angle  word.  The 
unmerited  aecufation  and  ignominious  death  cf  he* 
fathcr,  the  untimely  fate  of  the  lovely  and  pious  lady 
Jane,  had  fo  opprefled  her  heart,  that  it  was  or.lv  by 
the  indulgence  of  tears  flic  could  fftve  herfclf  from 
fainting.  At  length  lhe  recovered  ft  me  degree  of 
COmpOJure,  killed  Cora,  bade  her  good  night,  afl 
king  Mina's  hand,  retired  to  her  own  apartment. 


H  CHAP, 


7+  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

C  H  A  P.       X. 
An  Adventure. 

IT  was  now  near  midnight.  The  moon,  which  had 
ihonc  fo  bright  on  the  beginning  of  the  evening,  . 
was  now  enveloped  in  black  clouds.  The  wind  whitt- 
led hollow  through  the  branches  of  the  half-naked 
trees,  and  the  turrets  of  the  old  Caftle  echoed  its  mel- 
ancholy notes.  A  cold  rain  beat  againft  the  cafe- 
meuts,  that  foook,  in  their  frames  from  the  violence  of 
the  rifing  tempeft,  and  every  thing  wore  a  dreary, 
fi  n  bi  e  appearance. 

.,""  faid  Columbia,  flmdderjng,  "  my  fpir- 
ed,  and  the  apai'tment  looks  fo  gloo- 
i  I  had  not  pet  out  the  candle." 
e   fo   do  I,"  laid  Mina,  "  for  I  can't 
id,  that  the  people,  who 
Id  Caftle  ;  for  I  do  affure 
you  th  ,  live  in  it,  and  often  afk 

s  never  he  any  thing." 

"What  flapuld  we  hear  or  fee."  faid  Columbia, 
"more  than  cur  own  family:"  But  the  fhuddered 
involuntarily,  and  drew  nearer  to  Mina,  calling  a  fear- 
ful glance  round  the  room. 

"  Nay,  I  don't  know,"  replied  Mina,  "  I  never  give 
much  ear  to  fuch  {lories  ;  but  they  do  fay  the  Caftle  is 
haunted  ;  and  that  a  great  Baron,  who  owned  it  a 
good  many  years  ago,  killed  his  brother  here,  that, he 
might  win  the  love  of  his  lady,  whom  he  afterwards 
feduced,  and  then  fent  her  beyond  fea,  where  (he  was 
never  more  heard  of.  And  they  fay  the  young  Bar- 
on's ghoft  often  is  feen  about  the  weftern  ruins ;  and 
that  he  walks  round  the  garden,  and  even  fometimes 
through  the  long  gallery  and  up  the  winding  ftair- 
cafe  that  leads  to  the  turret  that  joins  this  range  of 
apartments." 

"  I  dare  fay  it  !s  all  fancy,"  faid  Columbia,  getting 
into  bed,  and  covering  her  face  with  the  bcd-clodies." 

«  Very 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  75 

"  Very  likely,"  faid  Mina  ;  "  for  you  know  we  nev- 
er fiiw  or  heard  any  thing." 

M  No,  nor,  I  will  anfwer  for  it,  never  fhall,"  replied 
her  young  lady,  "  fo  good  night,  Mina,  for  I'm 
fleepy." 

Mina  began  to  fay,  "  Good  night ;"  but  (topping 
fhort,  was  feized  with  a  univcrfal  ihivering  ;  her  heart 
beat  violently,  and  Ihe  trembled  fo  that  the  bed  fhook 
under  her. 

"  Oh  heavens,"  faid  Columbia,  "  what's  the  mat- 
ter ?" 

"  Hufh,"  replied  Mina,  "  liften."  In  trembling  fi- 
lence  they  both  raifed  their  heads  from  the  pillow,  and 
diftinctly  heard  human  Iteps  afcend  the  ftairs,  which 
led  to  the  turret,  and  which  winded  on  the  fide  of 
their  apartment  immediately  against  the  head  of  the 
bed.     . 

"  Perhaps  Matthias  is  not  gone  to  be:1,"  faid  Co- 
lumbia. "  Oh  !  but  I'm  fure  he  is,"  replied  Mina, 
"  I  faw  him  take  the  candle  and  go  into  his  own  room. 
Beiides,  what  fhould  he  do  up  in  the  old  turret  at 
this  hour,  on  fuch  a  difmal  ftormy  night  :" 

"  Well,  I  do  believe,"  faid  Columbia,  "  it  was  only 
imagination."  Juft  as  flie  fpoke,  they  heard  the  fame 
noiie  repeated,  but  it  was  the  found  of  a  perfon  de- 
fending ;  and  prefently  a  man's  voice  was  heard,  but 
not  loud  enough  to  diftinguifh  what  he  faid. 

At  the  fame  inftant  they  both  fprang  out  of  bed, 
and  ruflicd  into  Cora's  apartment  ;  there,  as  they  flood 
trembling  and  trying  to  awake  her,  they  difcerned 
through  a  window,  that  looked  towards  the  entrance 
that  led  to  the  long  gallery,  two  figures  come  from 
the  door  ;  and  by  the  pale  glimmer  of  the  moon  per- 
ceived that  one,  by  his  beaver  which  appeared  orna- 
mented with  feathers,  was  a  gentleman  of  rank,  the 
other  feemed  habited  like  a  fervant. 

"  There,  there."  faid  Mina,  "  do  you  fee  ?"  "  Yes," 
faid  Columbia  ;  "  but  there  are  two  figures."  "  Aye, 
to  be  fure,"  replied  Mina  ;  "  I  dare  fay  that  was  his 
faithful  fervant,  who  ifcas  killed  endeavouring  to  pre- 
fervc  his  mailer." 

Columbia, 


?ff  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  en, 

Columbia,  terrified  as  flic  was,  could  fcarcely  help 
fmiling  at  the  rcadincfs  of  her  young  attendant  in 
thus  explaining  every  thing  according  to  her  own  fancy. 
They  followed  the  two  figures  with  their  eyes,  till  they 
feemed  to  vaitth  amengft  the  weftern  ruins  ;  and  then 
waking  the  old  fervant,and  creeping  into  her  bed,  one  on 
one  fide  and  one  cm  the  other,  related  the  wonderful  ap- 
pearance they  had  feen,  and  the  founds  they  had  heard. 

Cora  was  (trongly  tinctured  with  the  fuperftition  fo 
prevalent  at  that  period  in  almoft  ever)-  rank.  She 
fully  believed  that  they  had  feen  fupernatural  beings, 
jlv.\]  related,  as  (he  lay  trembling  between  them,  fo  many 
horrible  (lories,  that  the  terrified  girls  were  afraid  to 
open  their  eyes,  left  fome  ghaftly  fpeclre  fhould  meet 
their  \  tew. 

At  length  the  clock  in  the  <reathall  chimed  three  ; 
and  Cora,  believing  that  at  that  hour  fpirits  of  every 
kfnd  returned  to  their  graves,  compofed  herfelf  to  fleep, 
as  did  2ier  young  companions. 

But  the  (pints  of  Columbia  had  been  fo  haraued, 
that  Iter  deep  was  difiurbed  by  frightful  viiior.s,  and 
(he  awoke  before  the  fun  had  cheered  the  face  of  day. 
Chid  to  behold  returning  light,  fiie  arofc,  dejected  and 
mil  efreflred  ;  and  throwing  a  mantle  over  her  fhoulders, 
ed  into  the  garden,  in  hopes  the  morning  air 
would  revive  her,  and  take  off  the  appearance  of  lan- 
guor which  the  want  of  reft  had  given  her,  and  which 
(he  was  fare  would  alarm  her  mother.  There,  as  flic 
wandered  through  a  walk  of  filbert  trees  which  had 
been  planted  by  Matthias  near  the  margin  of  the  pond, 
(he  endeavoured  to  perfuade  herfelf,  that  the  terrors 
they  had  experienced  in  the  night,  were  merely  the 
effects  of  an  imagination  previoufly  weakened  by  mel- 
ancholy recitals,  and  tinctured  by  the  gloomincfs  of 
the  weather.  The  ftorm  was  now  paft  ;  the  fun  was 
above  the  horizon;  the  fhy  was  fcrene  ;  the  air  juft 
Sharp  enough  to  brace  tire  nerves,  and  give  elaflicity 
to  the  fpirits.  Columbia,  enlivened  by  its^  vivifying 
power,  had  nearly  afiumed  her  ufual  chcerfulnefs  and 
fcrenily,  when  turning  out  of  the  walk  towards  the 
houfe,  from  an  arch-way  in  the  ruins  (lie  few,  advanc- 
ing 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES. 


/  i 


ing  towards  her,  the  fame  figures  fue  had  faintly  per- 
ceived crofs  the  court  yard  in  the  night.  She  Ihrieked, 
drew  her  mantle  over  her  face,  and  fell  fainting  to  the 
eardi. 

When  (lie  recovered,  fhe  found  herfelf  fupported  in 
her  m< :nher  '  •>  arm;,  the  itranger  {landing  befide  her. 
The  aLirmmg  myftery  was  hom  flblved.     This 

phantom,  who  had  in  alarmed  Columbia  and  her  at- 
tendant, was  a  material  ,  Sir  Egbert  Gor- 
iame  ;  who,  with  his  ili-vant,  flying  from  the 
of  Mary  (that  cruel  oppteiFor  and  tyrant 
<  i  lie.-  Proteftant  fubjects)  to  the  coaft  of  Wales,  in 
hopes  to  feek  in  fome  foreign  land  that  liberty  of  con- 
fcience  denied  him  ir.  his  own,  was  benighted,  and  had 
lbft  his  way. 

Sir  Egbert,  thus  weary  and  ite,  wandering 

over  the  dreary  heath,  drenched,  by  the  form,  fatigued, 
cold  and  hungry,  made  up  to  Auftentrory  Ca 
which  he  perceived  at  a  fmall  diftance.  The  ruinous 
appearance  of  the  wefrern  wing,  which,  being  next 
the  path  he  had  taken,  he  firft  entered,  gave  him  little 
hope  to  find  inhabitants  in  it.  lie  made  his  \ 
through  the    mouldering  apartmeni  he.  court 

yard,  which  he  crofled  ;  and  in  the  hope  of  fin  di 
fome  room  more   habitable  than  any  through   which 
he  had  palled,  he  .  die  flairs  which  lead  to  the 

turret.      But  di (appointed   in  his  wlfhes,  he  i.iid  to  I 
fervant  as  lie  caiuedown^  "  This  is  cercai   '  la- 

ted  ruin,  and  we  had  better  return  to  the  mod  com- 
fortable place  wc  can  n:\J.  on  the  other  fide  the  c<  i 
yard.  For  tliis  ''3d  turret  is  mere  oafmal  and  flatter- 
ed than  any  tiling  we  have  yet  icon."  Thefe  were 
the  fbotfteps  and  voices  that  had  lb  alarmed  Columbia. 
&ad  according  to  this  refolution,  they  were  rcturnii 
to  the  wetcrn  win  -,,  wh(  a  the  terrified  lady  and  her 
lervant  faw  them  from  the  window. 

Sir  Egbert,  and  his  man  Rawlins,  having  led  their 
horfes  into  a  place  of  comparative  Ihelter,  fought  for  a 
room  that  might  be  bed  calculated  to  guard  themfelves 
irom  the  damp  nocturnal  air.  Finding  cue  lefs  matter- 
ed by  the  hand  of  time  than  the  rc:l;  they  ftretched 
^  2  themielves 


&EUEE.N    axp    RACHEL;  oa, 

themfelvcs  on  the  floor,  and  reding  their  heads  on 
their  faddles,  compofed  themfelves  to  reft.  Hard  as 
the  bed  was,  Sir  Egbert,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and 
anxiety,  foon  dropped  into  a  profound  (lumber  ;  nor 
was  Rawlins  long  in  following  his  mailer's  example. 
From  this  ftate  ci'  infenfibility  they  -did  not  awake  till 
clay  light  flared  them  in  the  fice,  and  the  all-cheering 
fun  darted  his  beams  through  the  high-arched  \\in- 
dov?. 

Having  feen  that  their  horfes  were  fafa,  they  were 
preparing  to  colore  the   whole  of  the  Caftle,   which 
they  now  perceived  contained  fame  apartments  which 
wore  a  face  of  comfort,  and  Jecmcd  as  though    lately 
repaired  ;  when  as  they  came  from   the  ruin,    the  fine 
object  that  met  their  eyes  was  Columbia.     Su^prife 
riveted  them  to  thc'fpct.      But  her  terror  on  beholding 
them,  htr  iliriek,  and  confequent  fall,  made  them  hur- 
ry to  her  afliftance  ;  when  juft  as  they  had  railed  her 
from   the  ground,   Matthias   appeared  at   the  farther 
end  of  the  garden..     He  haftcned  towards  them,  help- 
ed to  fupport  his   dear  young  lady,  and   by  his  loud 
cries  focn   alarmed   Mina    and    Cora.     The    fainting 
Columbia  was  borne  into  the  hall,   and  the  lady  Ifa- 
bcllc,  hurrying  to  her  affiftance,  had  juft  taken  her  in 
her  maternal  arms,  when  Hie  recovered  fenfe    and  re- 
collection.    The  cenfufion  of  this  fcene  had  been  tco 
great  to   allow  of  any   explanations  on  one  fide,  ©r 
tiueftfoh's    en  the  other  ;  btfw    Sir   Egbert   feeing   the 
young  lady  now  free  from  alarm,   related,   in  as  con- 
t:fc  a  manner  as  poffible,  the  foregoing  circumflances, 
entreating  leave  to  reft  lor  a  few  days  in  the   Caftle, 
.yhilft  he  fent  Rawlins  to  the  neareft  fea-port  to  inquire 
for  a  vcflei  bound  for  Holland  or  Germany. 

To  this  Ifabelle  aflented  ;  and  in  the  courfe  of  the 
day  Columbia,  half  afliamed  of  her  tenors,  related  to 
her  mother  and  her  gucil  the  adventures  of  the  night. 
Cheerful  and  unrestrained  converfation  begets  confi- 
dence ;  and  before  the  hour  of  reft  arrived,  Sir  Egbert 
had  informed  his  fair  hoftefs  of  the  real  caufe  of  his 
Jvifty  ftght  from  London,  and  his  refolntion  to  quit  the 
kinnd.rm.  Ifabelle  tf&s  aftonifhed  at  the  account  he 
47  gave 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  7* 

gave  of  the  dreadful  perfecutions  under  which  the 
i'rctcflants  i'ufFered,  from  the  bigotry  and  cruelty  of 
Mary,  and  thole  tools  of  her  power,  Gardiner  and 
Bonner.  Secluded  as  fee  was  from  the  world*  though 
file  knew  they  had  great  difficulties  to  ftruggle  with, 
yet  fhe  had  no  idea  to  what  height  they  carried  then 
barbarity,  and  that  burning,  ftarving,  hanging,,  and 
fometinKi  drawing  the  victims  of  their  mifguided  zeal 
in  quarters,  was  the  rfiethod  taken  to  bring  back  the 
heretics  (as  tkey  were  called)  to  the  ceremonies  and 
fuperftitions  of  the  church  of  Rome; 

"Ah  !  my  dear  child,"  laid  (he  to  Columbia,  "'how 
much  gratitude  ought  we  to  feci  toward  the  divine 
Difpofer  of  all  events,  that  it  has  pleafed  him,  with  a 
correcting  hand,  to  lead  us  into  this  happy  obfeuriry, 
where  we  can  enjoy  that  liberty  of  conference  Which 
calms  and  fortifies  the  foul,  and  fits  it  for  all  event*-.. 
Alas  !  Columbia:,  had  your  dear  lather  lived  to  this 
day,  we  might  all  have  fullered  at  the  Itake  together. 
Then  let  us  be  humble  and  fubmifiivc  to  the  judg- 
ments of  our  Creator,  fince  followed  by  the  invaluable 
bleffitjgs  of  peace,  life,  and  the  liberty  of  werfbipping 
him  in  fecurity,  according  to  the  dictates  of  oar  con- 
feiences." 

Sir  Egbert  was  eharmed  with  the  polifhed  manners 
and  unaffected  piety  of  the  lady  Ilabelle.  But  the 
youth,  beauty,  innocence  and  vivacity  of  Columbia 
had  fafcinated.his  fenfes.  The  harmonious  trio  parted 
for  the  night,  mutually  pleafed  with  each  other.; 
Ilabelle  reflecting,  in  pious  gratitude,  on  her  prefent 
happy  feclufion  from  a  court  which  feemed  a  fcene  of 
murder,  and  where,  perhaps,  the  morals  and  principles 
of  her  darling  child  might  have  been  tainted  by  the 
bigotry  and  fuperftition  of  tlic  times,  Sir  Egbert  to  ru- 
minate on  the  intereiting  figure,  and  fwect  fimplicity 
oi  manner  that  characterized  Columbia,  and  Columbia 
hcr&lf  to  ehat  with  Mina  about  the  handfeme  Sir 
Egbert  Gc 


CHAP. 


00  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;.©*, 

C  H  A  P.       XT. 

•.••/   Advice^   Departure  if  a    Lovtr. 

P  ypu  not  think   our  yi  handfome  :" 

f.i.     "  Yes,    indeed   1    do,"   faid 
I-!:i  i ;    "  and  '  er   kind  of  !,. 

"  An.;  you  Kna  :" 

"  No,  not  very  handfome  ;  inn  he  has  i  leal  to 

I    fays   he  rnuft   have   travelled,  for   ho 
knows  all  abftut  her  country  as  well  as  .i  been 

there."     "  But  that  may  be  from  reading,  Mina  ;   for 

o 

my  mother  told  me  to-day,  th.it  her  father,  Ferdi- 
nando  Columbus,  wrote  a  full  account  of  her  grand* 
father's  voyages,  dicing  the  t\*p  years  they  lived  re- 
tired at  Vailadulid.  And  that  at  the  time  my  father's 
pJiper/5  were  feized  by  his  enemies,  the  manufcript  was 
found,   and   it   has   fince    been   printed." 

"  And  fo,  madam,  this  fine  ftranger,  this  Sir  Egbert, 
it  going  away  to  live  amongll  the  Dutch  people,  P.aw- 
inis  teljLs  me.  I'm  fure,  if  I  was  as  him,  1  would  ihiy 
v.  here  I  was."  "  But  that  would  be  improper,  Mina  ; 
my  mother  could  net  poflibly  entertain  a  Itrange  knight 
here  aboyp  a  day  or  two,  as  ihe  has  neither  hufband 
or  fon  t;;  bear  him   company." 

"  Well,  if  tiie  has  no  fon  or  hufbandj  ihc  has  a 
daughter  ;  and  I  warrant  Sir  Egbert  would  excufe  the 
deficiency  of  the  cue  for  the  fake  of  the  other." 
"  How  wildly  you  talk,  Mina  ;  I  (hall  be  angry  with 
you  prefently."  "  What,  madam,  for  fup poling  the 
hanuiome  young  knight  is  pleafed  with  you  ;  nay,  now, 

1  dont  think  you  would  be  very  much  out  of  humour 
if  a  ftprm  was  to  detain  him  at  the  Caltie  a  week  or 
fo  ;  foi  then  you  know  there  would  be  fomcexcufe 
for  his  Haying."  "  Pho  !  you  talk  like  a  fimplcton, 
Jvlina  ;   I  wifli  you  would  go  to  fleep." 

"  Well,  I  wonder  how  ibmr  folks  can.be  fo  infenfible  ; 
for  my  part,  as  foon  as  I  faw  him  this  morning,  and 
found  he  was  real  flefh  and  blood,  I  laid  to  myfelf, 
Well,  he  is  a  charming  cavalier,  and  if  he  would  but 

fall 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  Si 

fall  in  love  with  my  lady  Columbia,  and  flie  with 
him,  we  lhould  have  a  wedding,  and  there  is  always 
rare  doings  at  a  wedding  ;  and  then  we  iliould  go  away 
from  this  old  Caftle.  And  now,  if  you  won't  be  angry, 
I'll  tell  you  the  truth.  I  never  do  fay  my  prayers, 
but  what  I  pray  that  we  may  foon  go  away  from  this 
f  hoc  king  old  place.  Why  the  arch,  at  the  entrance 
of  the  great  gate,  looks  as  if  it  would  fall  whenever 
the  gate  is  opened  ;  but  to  be  lure  that  a'nt  very 
often,  we  are  not  much  troubled  with  horfemen,  ex- 
cept when  Matthias  comes  from  market,  with  the  old 
blind  crippled  creature  that  brings  home  our  provi- 
fions.  And  then  one  never  fees  a  young  man.  I 
declare,  I  bleifed  my  eye-fight  when  I  faw  Mr.  Raw- 
lins :  for  what  with  Matthias's  (lories  about  the  wars, 
and  Cora's  earthquakes,  and  Ihipwrecks,  and  florms, 
and  fo  forth,  I  am  heart  uck." 

"  And  I'm  fure,  fo  am  I,  Mina,  to  hear  you  talk 
fuch  a  parcel  of  nonfenfe.  However,  if  you  are  tired 
of  (laying  in  the  Caille,  you  arc  at  liberty  to  leave  it 
whenever  you  pleafe," 

"Me  leave  it,  madam?  No  indeed,  madam  ;  if  it 
was  ten  times  more  frightful  than  it  is,  I  would  not 
leave  it  without  you,  and  my  dear  lady  your  mother, 
for  the  whole  world.  No  ;  I  meant  that  if  you  were 
married  to  this  bandfome  Sir  Egbert,  we  lhould  go 
to  London  again,  and  have  fine  dreffing  and  balls  and 
feafting." 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  wifh  for,  Mina.  Lon- 
don is  no  place  for  Protectants.  London  is  now  the 
feat  ot  every  enormity  which  is  practiced  under  the 
malk  of  religion.  Queen  Mary  is  determined  that 
every  one  of  her  fubjecis  ihall  think  as  fnc  thinks,  and 
thofe  who  hefitate  to  obey  her,  are  burnt  at  the  Hake." 

"  And  pray,  madam,  why  don't  the  people  burn 
her?  She  is  but  one,  and  (he  has  multitudes  of  fub- 
jecis." 

"  She  is  their  queen,  Mina,  and  they  dare  not  life 
the  hand  againll  her." 

"  Queen  indeed  !   Well,  1  am  but  an  ignorant  girl, 
to  be  fure  ;  but  I  can't  fee  why  a  queen  lhould  com- 
mit 


ft  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

mit  murder  without  being  punifhed  for  it,  any  more 
than  other  people." 

M  But  it  is.  not  called  murder,  when  a  pcrfon  is 
executed  for  ailing  contrary  to  a  queen's  commands."  ' 

"  They  may  call  it  what  they  pleafe  ;  but  if  a  per- 
fon  is  innocent  oi  any  real  crime,  and  is  only  accufed 
of  not  thinking  as  the  queen  does,  or  perhaps  they 
don't  preach  and  pray  juft  as  flic  would  have  them  ; 
I  do  fay,  and  will  Hand  to  it,  if  ihe  orders  them  to 
be  hanged  or  burnt,  it  is  murder.  Aye,  and  I  fancy 
her  cruel  queenihip  will  find  that  out,"  when  ihe  dies." 

"  You  are  a  Orange  girl,  Minn,  and  are  now  talk- 
ing on  a  fubjeel  we  neither  of  us  are  competent  to 
fpeak  upon  ;  therefore  let  me  beg  you  to  fay  no  more. 
Let  us  fay  our  prayers,  and  be  thankful  we  are,  by 
our  feclufion  from  focietjr,  and  our  diftancc  from  the 
metropolis,  fecure  from  any  fear  of  her  power.  And 
fo,  Mina,  good  night." 

Columbia  fooke  this  in  fo  referved  a  tone,  that  Mina 
did  not  dare  to  proceed,  though  Ihe  never  felt  lefs  in- 
clined to  fleep.  Yet  Ihe  endeavoured  to  obey  her 
young  lady,  faid  her  prayers,  and  addreifed  herfelf  to 
i:eep. 

The  next  morning,  Rawlins  was  difpatched  to  the 
neareft  fea-port,  to  inquire  for  a  veJfel,  and  from  fome 
unforefeen  accidents,   he  was  detained   nearly  a  week. 

During  this  interval,  the  daily,  nay,  almolt  hourly 
opportunities  Sir  Egbert  had  of  converfmg  with  Co- 
lumbia, and  cbferving  her  mildnefs,  modefty,  and 
underftandinu;,  which  had  been  highly  cultivated  by 
the  tender  and  careful  hand  of  maternal  affection,  in- 
fpired  him  with  a  paffion  ardent  as  it  was  fincere  ; 
and  he  could  not  repel  the  rifing  wifhes  of  his  heart, 
that  this  lovely  creature  might  be  ordained  his  part- 
ner, to  fmooth  the  rugged  path  cf  life. 

Columbia  had  not  been  infenfibleto  the  many  vir- 
tues and  graces  of  Sir  Egbert  ;  but  ihe  had  not  learnt 
to  difguife  her  thought?  from  her  bed  and  only  friend. 
She  confidered  it  no  crime  to  love  a  worthy  and  ac- 
compliihea  man,  and  her  mother  became  the  confi- 
dant 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  83 

dant  of  her  paffion  almoft  as  foon  as  fhe  difcovered  it 
herfelf. 

"  I  Gannot  blame  you,  my  child,"  (aid  this  indulgent 
parent,  "  for  the  admiration  and  eitecm  you  feel  fqr  .Sir 
Egbert  Gorges  ;  but  I  would  wifh  my  dear  Columbia 
bad  feen  a  little  more  W  the  world,  before  flic  felec^ed 
a  partner  for  life.  You  are  yet  fcareely  eighteen*  and 
Sir  Egbert  is  almoft  the  firft  man  you  have  feen  above 
the  rank  of  a  clown.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  my  love,  we 
fhall  not  always  be  fecluded  in  this  folitary  Caitle.  I 
underftand  from  Sir  Egbert,  that  queen  Mary's  health 
is  in  a  declining  ftate.  Should  ihe  die  without  blue, 
her  lifter  Elizabeth  is  next  heir  to  the  throne.  Eliza- 
beth is  hcrfelf  a  Proteftant,  and  will  no  doubt  encour- 
age all  the  profeffors  of  that  religion.  I  lhall  in  that 
cafe,  for  your  fake,  my  child,  repair  to  court,  and  pe- 
tition for  a  reftitution  of  your  fathers  lands.  I  have 
alio  another  duty  to  fulfil.  A  dear  friend  of  mine, 
who  fuffered  death  a  few  fears  after  your  father,  in 
her  laft  moments  recommended  her  infant  ion  to  my 
care.  Should  fo  fortunate  an  event  take  place  as  «the 
princefs  Elizabeth's  acceftion  Co  the  throne,  I  fhall  to 
her  protecting  care  recommend  this  laft  branch  of  an 
unfortunate  family,  the  innocent  part  of  which  have 
been  the  fuffercrs  for  the  guilty  ambition  of  the  reft." 

"  I  apprehend  madam,"  faid  Columbia,  "  that 
mean  the  offspring  of  the  Lord  Guilford  Dudlc 
lady  Jane.  Cora  informed  me  of  their  unfortunate 
exaltation  and  confequent  death  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt 
but  the  royal  Elizabeth  will,  fhould  ihe  ever  have  the 
power,  reftore  to  him  his  rank  and  the  fortunes  of 
his  anceftors." 

"  Heaven  grant  that  I  may  fee  the  day,"  faid 
Ifabelle.  "  And  now,  my  dear  child,  though  I  would 
not  put  any  reftraint  on  your  inclinations,  I  could  wiih 
you  to  decline  a  union  with  Sir  Egbert  Gorges,  till 
quieter  and  more  profperous  times.  Enter  into  no 
ferious  engagements  with  him,  which  hereafter  may 
caufe  you  much  uneafinefs.  Mix  firft  with  the  world. 
The  heart  is  apt  to  be  deceived  in  its  rirft  emotions, 
when  little  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  feclufiGn  from 

fociety, 


84  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;,  or, 

fociety,  prevents  a  free  election  ;  and  the  ohjeel  who, 
when  the  only  one,  appeared  to  have  every  attraction, 
to  poflefs  every  virtue,  when  compared  with  others  of 
more  finning  talents,  lofes  the  charm  that  had  at  firft 
engaged  the  affections.  The  difappointment  then  be- 
comes  intolerable,  and  the  unfortunate  victim  of  inex- 
perience paffes  a  life  of  unceafing  regret  and  fruitlefs 
repining.  I  will  confefs  to  you,  that  Sir  Egbert  hr.s 
fpoken  to  me  on  thib  fubject,  and  1  then  advifed  hinu 
as  I  now  advife  yen  ;  and  I  hope  my  dear  child  will 
not  find  a  difficulty  in  following  advice,  that  can 
have  no  other  end  in  view  than  her  happinefs." 

"  I  cannot  hefitate  a  moment,  my  dear  mother,*' 
faid  Columbia,  "to  prcmific  that  your  wiflies,  which 
to  me  are  commands,  will  ever  be  ohferved  as  laws. 
Think  not,  beloved  parent,  that  your  child  was  io  wea- 
ry of  your  fociety,  as  to  renounce  it  for  that  of  a 
ilrangcr,  whom  Hie  had  fcarcely  known  a  week.  Oh 
no!  however  partial  my  heart  maybe,  I  could  wifli 
to  be  better  a  flu  red  of  the  merits  of  the  object,  before 
I  gave  my  future  happinefs  into  his  keeping.  Let  Sir 
Egbert  purfue  his  intended  voyage  ;  if  at  lomc  future 
period  he  fiiould  return  dill  conftant  to  mc,  I  think 
I  can  anfwer  for  the  (lability  of  my  affections." 

"Make  no  rafh  promifes,  my  dear  child,"  faid  Ifabclle. 
Columbia  bowed  her  head  aifentingly,  and  remained 
filent. 

Rawlins  now  returned,  with  intelligence  that  a  vef- 
fel  for  Amflerdam  would  be  ready  to  fail  in  the  courfe 
of  three  days.  On  the  morning  of  the  fecond  day, 
therefore,  Sir  Egbert,  and  his  faithful  Rawlins,  de- 
parted ;  the  former  having,  with  many  thanks  for  her 
hofpitality,  taken  leave  nf  his  fair  hoftefs,  and  entreat- 
ed her  permifiion  for  Columbia  to  accept  a  fmall  dia« 
mond  rim*  in  remembrance  of  him  ;  which,  as  it  was 
of  trifling  value,  Ihc  allowed,  at  the  fame  time  pre- 
fenting  him  with  a  plain  gold  one  from  her  own  fin- 
ger, faying,  "  I  know  you  will  condefcend  to  accept 
this  in  token  of  amity,  for  trifles  become  valuable  w  hen 
we  efteem  the  giver." 

Mir.a 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  85 

Mina  had,  at  parting  from  Rawlins,  received  from 
him  a  imall  lilver  coin,  on  which  with  his  knife  he 
had  marked  the  initials  of  his  name,  and  over  the  let- 
ters were  two  hearts.  A  puncture  was  made  near  the 
extremity,  and  a  firing  being  palled  through  it,  Mina 
fuipended  this  pledge  of  affection  round  her  neck. 

But  Mina,  though  ihe  fancied  herfclf  in  love  pad 
cure,  and  that  (he  fhould  be  conltant  through  long 
abfence  and  trials  of  every  kind,  was  a  ftranger  to  her 
own  heart.  She  was  by  nature  a  coquette,  fond  of 
admiration,  and  jdcafed  with  thofe  who  gave  it.  She 
loved  Rawlins,  becaufe  he  had  profefled  to  love  her. 
But,  alas  !  poor  Mina,  when  (he  ufed  daily  pathetical- 
ly to  lament  the  abfence  of  her  lover,  had  ihe  but 
fearched  her  heart  thoroughly,  ihe  would  have  difcov- 
ered  that  it  was  the  flattery  ihe  milled  ;  and  that  food 
of  female  vanity,  artfully  adminillercd  by  any  other 
pcrfon,  would  foon  have  effectually  banilaed  the  re- 
membrance of  Rawlins,  and  dried  up  her  tears  for  his 
departure. 

Far  differently  affected  was  the  heart  of  Columbia. 
Her  partiality  to  Sir  Egbert  was  lanctior.cd  by  the 
voice  of  reafon.  She  felt  that,  was  ihe  his  wife,  flic 
could  brave  every  hardlhip  with  him  without  repin- 
ing. For  his  fake  ihe  would  then  have  faced  perfecu- 
tion,  poverty,  famine,  nay,  death  itielf.  But  at  the 
fame  time  ihe  forcibly  felt,  that  to  defcend  in  the 
fmalleft  degree  from  the  reipect  flic  owed  herfclf,  from 
that  nccciiary  pride  and  dignity  oi  manner  which  is 
the  fafeguard  of  female  honour,  would  be  no  longer 
to  defcrvc  him.  When  engaged  in  itudies  that  enrich- 
ed her  mind  and  expanded  her  undcrftanding,  ihe 
thought  fuch  employment  would  render  her  a  more 
pleaiing  companion  to  Sir  Egbert.  He  was  feldom 
from  her  thoughts  in  her  waking  hours,  and  frequent- 
ly vifited  her  dreams ;  and  in  her  daily  devotlOOS 
were  mingled  conftant  prayers  for  his  fafcty. 

Yet  Columbia  was  not  totally  diverted  of  that  vani- 
ty, which  in  her  childifh    years  had  formed  fo  ftriking 
a  trait  in  her  character  ;  but  it  had  been   {o  judicioui- 
I7  repelled  md  corrected    by  her    mother,    that  no 
I  more 


86  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

more  of  it  remained  than  ferved  as  a  foil  to  her  virtues. 
She  knew  flic  was  handfome,  and  flic  ihidied  to  fet  off 
tli.it  beauty  by  humility,  benevolence,  fimplicity  and 

candour. 

<  <  <  <  «<^.4»Jj>»  >■  >..>.  > 

CHAP.       XII. 

Cofifufio;:,  Diflrefs)  uncxpefted  Journey. 

ABOVE  eighteen  months  after  the  departure  of 
Sir  Egbert  pallid  in  the  ufunl.way',  in  which 
time  Rawlins  had  twice  been  to  Au/lcnbury  Caftle 
with  letters  from  his  mafter.  But  the  enemies  of  Gor- 
ges, encouraged  by  Mary,  purfucd.him  with  fuch  un- 
relenting fur} ,  that  he  dared  not  himfelf  venture  to 
England. 

It  was  in  the  fummer  of  1558,  that  an  event  tool: 
flace  which  had  nearly  put  a  period  to  the  life  of 
lady  Iiabelle,  and  involved  her  daughter  in  accumu- 
lated niil'eiy.  A. report  had  been  circulated,  that  the 
child  of  lady  Jane  and  lord  Guilford  Dudley  was  in 
cxillcnce,  and  in  the  protection  of  a  Proteflant  family. 
'The  furious  zeal  of  Mary  infpircd  her  with  the 
idea,  that  by  getting  this  infant  into  her  power,  and 
having  him  educated  in  the  Catholic  religion,  (lie 
ihould  render  Heaven  an  acceptable  piece, Oifen  ice,  and 
entirely  atone  to  the  child  for  the  death  of  his  parents, 
the  figning.of  whbfe  death-warrant  fometimeslay  hea- 
vy on  her  confeience  ;  and  in  thofc  fits  of  gloomy  re- 
morfe,  flic  always  had  recourfe  to  her  ghoftly  confei- 
for  for  fpiritual  advice  and  comfort,  who  upon  theic 
occafions  did  not  fail  to  iniiame  her  mind,  and  Tender 
her  bigotry  more  pbftinatc. 

This  man,  wlio  \'-'H'i  in  1hec0Rfider.ee  of  Gardiner, 
bifliop  of  Winchcfter,  qncpuraged  the  queen  in  her  de- 
l'nc  to  get  young  Dudley  into  her  power.;  and  accord* 
inglv,  dihgcnt  inquiry  was  made  after  the  place  of 
Ids  ieclufiou.  At  length,  accident  difcovered  what 
i:r  of.  Sir  James  Howard,  a 
vouneer 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  87 

younger  branch  of  the  houfe  of  Norfolk,  (a. family  re- 
nowned for  their  attachment  to  the  Catholic  perfua- 
fion,)  a  man  in  high  favour  with  the  queen,  and  in 
habits  of  ftric"t  jntimacy  with  Gardiner,  Bonner,  and 
the  reft  of  the  perfecuting  party,  having  received  an 
invitation  to  fpend  the  decline  of  the  fummcr  in  Wales 
at  the  feat  of  Sir  Owen  Langwylling,  and  partake  ol 
the  diverfions  of  hunting  and  lhooting,  in  the  begin- 
ning of  Auguft,  repaired  to  the  antique  manlion  of 
his  friend. 

Sir  Owen  was  young,  gay,  and  fond  of  difllpation 
and  expenfive  pleafures,  which  the  fmallncfs  of  his  pa- 
ternal inheritance  would  not  permit  him  to  enjoy  to 
the  extent  he  wiilied.  Howard  was  rich  in  mane] ,  a£ 
well  as  in  court  favour  ;  and  Sir  Owen  invited  him 
into  Wales,  in  hopes  the  youth  and  beauty  of  his  only 
fifter,  Winifreda,  might  catch  Ins  affe&ions,  and  at 
once  fecure  an  honourable  alliance  for  hcrfclC  and  a 
powerful  friend  for  him. 

It  was  during  this  vifit,  that  Howard,  tired  one 
evening  with  the  rude  and  turbulent  mirth  of  his  hoft 
and  his  Welfh  aflbciates,  left  them  to  fir.ifh  their  ui'ual 
libations  to  Bacchus ;  and  mounting  his  horfe,  on 
whofe  neck  he  fulFered  the  reins  to  reft,  giving  a  loofe 
to  reflection,  and  intending  only  to  efcape  from  dif- 
gufting  fociety,  and  enjoy  the  pleafures  of  retirement 
and  contemplation,  he  permitted  the  animal  to  take 
what  courie  he  pleafed.  Nor  was  his  attention  arouf- 
ed  as  to  the  time  he  had  been  abfent,  till,  coming  fud- 
dcnly  out  of  a  wood  into  a  wide-extended  heath,  be 
perceived  the  fun  was  drawing  near  the  weftern  hori- 
zon ;  and  turning  his  horfe  with  a  deiign  to  meafure 
back  the  path  he  had  trod,  on  the  fummit  of  a  hill,  he 
law  Auftenbury  Cattle.  The  parting  beams  of  the 
fun  fhone  full  on  the  venerable  ruin,  and  his  ravs  gavfl 
an  uncommon  richnefs  to  the  furrounding  profpect, 
Curiofity  urged  him  on,  and  once  more  turning  his 
fteed,  he  proceeded  at  a  good  pace  up  the  hill. 

It  has  been  observed,  that  the  moft  ruinous  part  of 
this  Cattle  was  that  which  fronted  the  heath  ;  and 
Howard,  having  led  his  horfe  over  a  broken  draw- 
bridge, 


»*  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  er., 

,  which  appeared  as  though  it  had  not  becnraif- 
c.d  for  more  than  a  century  paft,  fattened  his  bridle  to 
a  ring  which  had  formerly  lupported  a  fwing  gate,  or 
private  entrance  to  the  i'ortiricd  part  of, the  Caitlc,  and 
proceeded  through  an  aperture  in  the  wall  immediately 
into  the  garden,  the  neatneffi  and  cultivation  of  which 
convinced  him  there  were  inhabitants  in  the  Cattle. 
ile  went  forward,  and  at  the  extremity  of  the  garden, 
in  the  arbour  before  mentioned  as  the  fcene  of  Colum- 
bia's chikliih  (ports  and  feftivity,  he  faw  ;i  female,  ty- 
ing up  a  bunch  of  reeds  in  the  form  of  a  wheat  iheaf, 
and  a  boy  Handing  befide  her,  apparently  about  five 
years  of  age.  As  he  approached  nearer,  the  beauty  of 
Mina  (truck  bim  with  furprhe.  For  it  was  (lie  who 
bad  been  walking  with  young  Dudley,  who  was  now 
breome  an  inmate  at  the  Cattle,  and  who  wanted  to 
go  into  the  water  after  the  reeds,  that  he  might  play 
at  reaping.  She  had  gathered  a  few  to  divert  him, 
and  was  employed  in  binding  them  up,  when  How- 
ard approached  them.  He  fpoke  before  fhe  faw  him. 
She  darted  from  her  feat,  and  the  blood  mounted  to 
her  cheeks.  But  Howard  was  young,  handfome,  and 
addreifed  her  with  fuch  an  air  of  gallantry,  that  (he 
foon  recovered  herfelf,  and  felt  more  inclined  to  be 
pleafed  than  alarmed  at  his  intrufion. 

Night  was  now  rapidly  approaching,  and  our  knight 
was  chagrined  at  it.  He  wiihed  to  have  entertained 
the  pretty,  bluihing  Mina  with  exprefllons  of  his  ad- 
miration and  wonder,  to  fee  fo  much  lovelinefs  thus 
buried  in  folitude  ;  but  time  would  not  permit.  He 
a(ked,  however,  a  few  trifling  queflions,  ventured  to 
take  her  hand  and  kifs  it,  carefled  the  child,  and  pre- 
fenting  Mina  with  a  jewel  which  he  took  from  his 
beaver,  and  which  he  "had  obferved  lhe  eyed  with  at- 
tention, requeued  her  to  meet  him  there  again  early 
the  next  morning. 

"  But  be  fure,  pretty  creature,"  faid  he,  "  you  do 
not  mention  having  feen  me  to  your  father  and  moth- 
er."    ?  I  have  no  father  and  mother,  Sir,"  faid  Mina. 

"  Well,  then,  to  your  uncle,  or  aunt,  or  grandmoth- 
er."    "  La  !    Sir,"  faid  Mina,  with  Ample  earnelmefs, 

«  I  have 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  89 

«■  I  have  no  relations ;  I  am  only  poor  Mina,  and  live 
here  in  the  old  Caftle  with  my  lady."  «  And  who  is 
your  lady  ?"     "  The  lady  Ifabelle  Arundel." 

"  Well,  you  need  not  tell  her,  or  any  body,  that  you 
have  feeri  me  ;  I  have  a  particular  reafon  for  it.  I 
will  be  here  by  fix  o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 

Mina  promifed  filence,  and  dropping  a  cttrtefy,  Wifls* 
ed  him  a  good  night. 

The  thoughts  of  this  fimple  girl  were  r.gitated  and 
confufed,  as  ihe  proceeded  towards  the  houfe.  She 
was.relblved  not  to  mention  the  (hunger  ;  but  then 
Henry,  he  might  tell  the  lady  Kibclle.  But  to  prevent 
this,  immediately  on  her  entering  the  Caftle,  lhe  put 
the  child  to  bed,  and  then  repairing  to  her  lady,  gave 
as  a  reafon  for  having  done  fo,  that  Le  was  tired  with 
his  walk. 

The  ufual  avoca'.ions  of  the  evening  fo  entirely  oc- 
cupied Mina,  that  (he  had  no  time  to  thin!;,  till  the 
hour  of  retirement.  No  fooner  was  fhe  in  her  own 
apartment,  than,  drawing  the  jewel  from  her  pocket, 
fhe  compared  it  with  the  fdver  token  of  Rawlins"  hon- 
eft  love.  "  It  is  much  finer,"  faid  (he,  delighted  with 
its  luftre  ;  "but  then  what  will  poor  Rawlins  fay,  if  1 
mould  prove  fane -hearted  ?"  A  deep  figh,  as  ti 
flection  palfcd  through  her  mind,  feuned  to  tell  her, 
the  afiiignation  (he  had  made  with  the  gallant  ftrangcr 
was  improper.  But  Mina  polfeffed  that  unfortunate 
flexibility  of  difpofuion,  that  unfits  its  poflliror  for  <p- 
polition  of  any  kind.  Her  inclination  to  keep  her 
appointment  was  (Irong,  and  the  courtly  m  inner, 
handfome  perfonr  and  rich  prefent  of  Howard,  had 
fuch  an  effect  "upon  her  deluded  fenf.  s,  as  to  lead  her 
to  imagine  ihe  had  never  loved  Rawlins  half  fo  well, 
as  (he  found  fho  was  inclined  to  love  him. 

Had  the  lady  Columbia  been  prefent,  (he  would  no 
doubt,  notwithstanding  he."  promife  to  the  contrary, 
have  confided  to  her  the  intrunon  of  the  ftran^er,  and 
her  promife  to  fee  him  again  in  the  morning.  Indeed, 
fixll  of  her  own  praiics  which  (he  had  heard  fion. 
lips,  and  occupied  entirely  in  reflecting  on  h. 
pcrfon  and  rich  drefs,  (he  wiihed  for  nothing  more  ar- 
I  z 


9o  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  oa, 

dently  than  an  opportunity  to  repeat  it  all  to  her  young 
lady.  But  Columbia  now  llept  in  an  apartment  by 
herfelf,  and  the  young  Dudley  partook  of  Mina's  bed  ; 
fo  the  fecret  was  of  neceffity  confined  to  her  own  bo- 
fom.  Its  importance  in  her  ideas,  was  fufficient  to 
banilh  fleep  from  her  eyes  ;  and  me  impatiently  count- 
ed the  clock  till  it  ftrr.ck  four.  "  Well,  two  hours 
will  be  foon  part,"  laid  ihe,  and  immediately  began  to 
drefs  herfelf.  But  quick  as  her  impatient  wifhes  led 
her  to  imagine  they  might  pafs,  when  ihe  was  anxiouf- 
ly  counting  every  minute,  Ihe  thought  the  period  aa 
eternity. 

Having  drefTed  herfelf,  fhe  defcended  to  the  great 
hall,  and  thought  to  be  fure  it  mud  be  near  five ;  but 
poor  Mina  was  deceived  in  her  calculation,  and  found 
it  but  a  quarter  paft  four.  She  liftened,  fhe  watched 
the  hand,  ihe  could  fcarcely  perceive  it  move  ;  it  had 
certainly  flopped  ;  her  lady  would  be  up,  fhe  fhould 
be  prevented  meeting  the  flranger.  Impelled  by  this 
idea,  fhe  had  walked  more  than  a  dozen  times  from 
the  hall  to  the  arbour  and  back  again,  and  ftiil  it  was 
fcarcely  half-paft  five. 

At  length  the  long  expected  flranger  was  feen  ap- 
proaching ;  for  he  had  been  impelled  by  a  curiofity, 
as  refllefs  as  the  new  born  paffion  of  Mina,  to  repair 
•early  to  the  place  of  affignation. 

As  he  had  leifurely  walked  his  horfe  homeward  the 
-evening  before,  he  had  reflected  on  the  name  of  Mina's 
lady.     Arundel !  1 1  was  furely  the  widow  of  Sir  Thom- 
as Arundel  ;  if  fo,  the   intimate  friend  of  lady  Jane 
.Grey.     Might  not  that  boy   be  the   long-fought   ( ff- 
fpring  of  Dudley  ?    If  fo,  how  would  it  elevate  him  in 
the  queen's  favour,  to  inform  her  where  the  boy  might 
be  found  !     Let  no   one  blame  Howard  ;  he  thought 
it   right   to  endeavour  to  fnatch  the  child  from  the 
.dangers  of  what  he  termed  an  heretical  education  ;  he 
acted  from  principle. ;  and  it  were  well  for  every  one, 
who  courts  the  favour  of  the  great,  if  they  could  lay 
their  hands  en  their  hearts,  and  with  truth  aifert  the 

fame 

In 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  91 

la  his  converfation  with  the  artlefs  and  infatuated 
Mina,  he  drew  from  her  every  c  i  re  um  (lance  he  wilhed 
to  know.  Her  inexperienced  heart,  fafcinated  with 
bis  flattery,  and  thinking  him  all  that  was  amiable  on 
earth,  could  riot  imagine  him  a  Catholic.  She  thought 
he  profelFed  the  fame  religion  with  her  lady  and  her- 
felf.  He  perceived  her  eiror,  and  fufFered  it  to  con- 
tinue, till  he  made  himfelf  acquainted  with  every  par- 
ticular within  the  knowledge  of  Mina  ;  and  in  the  end 
triumphed  in  the  fpoils  of  her  innocence. 

For  three  weeks,  an  illicit  intercourfe  was  carried  on 
between  them  ;  during  which  period  Howard  had 
fent  intelligence  to  his  friend  Gardiner,  that  the  object 
of  their  hitherto  fruitlefs  fearch  was  now  within  their 
reach.  At  the  name  of  Arundel,  Gardiner  felt  all 
his  hatred  revive  towards  the  widow  and  child  of  his 
departed  enemy  ;  and,  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  wreak 
on  them  the  vengeance  which  the  blood  of  the  hufband 
and  father  had  not  fated,  eagerly  flew  to  the  queen, 
and  obtained  from  her  an  order  to  oblige  the  lady  Ifa- 
belle,  and  her  daughter  Columbia,  with  their  young 
charge  Henry  Dudley,  to  repair  immediately  to  Lon- 
don ;  and  in  cafe  of  hcfitation  and  reluctance,  to  bring 
them  away  by  force. 

It  was  morning  j  breakup  had  been  removed  ;  Ifa- 
ielle  and  Columbia  were  employed  at  their  needles. 
•Mina  was  reading  (as  was  the  cuftom  of  that  lady  to 
make  either  her  daughter  or  her  attendant  do  every 
morning)  fome  extracts  from  a  book  of  devotion.  A 
violent  knocking  at  the  gate  alarmed  them.  Matthi- 
as, with  all  the  haile  his  advanced  age  would  permit, 
went  to  open  it.  In  a  moment  the  court  was  tilled 
with  horiemen,  foldiers  and  friars,  and  at  their  head 
was  Sir  James  Howard,  who  was  appointed  to  com- 
mand the  party,  and  conduct  the  prii'oners  to  London. 
Mina's  heart  leaped  within  her.  She  thought  her  lov- 
er was  come  with  this  noble  train,  to  claim  her  as  his 
bride,  (as  he  had  frequently  promifed  he  would)  and 
take  her  with  him  to  London.  Lady  Ifabelle  turned 
pale.     Loft !  ruined  !  undone  I  were  all  the  words  fhe 

eould 


f,z  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  oa, 

could  articulate,  and  fhe  funk  almoft  lifelcfs  on  the 
ncareit  feat 

The  little  Dudley  was  playing  in  the  hall,  when 
Howard  and  Sir  Owen  entered.  Unufed  to  danger, 
unacquainted  with  fear,  he  ran  to  the  hrave  gen- 
tlemen, as  he  called  them,  admired  their  waving 
plumes  and  laced  douhlets  ;  and  hanging  on  the  hilt 
of*  Howard's  fword,  told  him  he  remembered  when  he 
came  through  the  broken  wall  into  the  garden.  This 
cireumftance,  which  a  variety  of  other  childiih  amufe- 
ments  had  contributed  to  efface,  had  lain  dormant  in 
his  youthful  mind,  till-  the  appearance  of  Howard; 
who  happening  to  wear  the  fame  drtrfs  then,  as  when- 
the  child  mil  law  him,  brought  it  frefh  to  his  memory. 

Howard  took  the  child  in  his  arms  ;  and,  followed 
by  Sir  Chven  and  a  number  of'  other  gentlemen,  enter- 
ed the  apartment  of  lady  Ifabelle.  Though  nearly 
overcome  by  her  fears,  the  widow-  of  Arundel  had  (till 
a  dignity  of  manner,  a  chafte  feverity  of  countenance,- 
that  awed  even  the  moft  ferocious.  Sir  Owen  Lang- 
wylling,  a  man  neither  celebrated  for  his  politenefs  or 
ienfibility,  was  a  proof  of  this.  He  met  the  glances 
of  her  penetrating  eyes,  and  funk  abalhed  behind  How- 
ard, mingling  in  the  thickefl  of  the  crowd,  his  beaver 
off,  and  his  eyes  bent  to  the  eaith. 

Ifabelle  arofe  from  her  feat  at  their  entrance,  and: 
bewing  gracefully,  requefted  to  be  informed  of  the 
caufe  ot'  their  vifit.  Howard  was  confufed  ;  he  heii- 
tated  as  he  attempted  to  fpeak,  and  at  that  moment 
catching  the  eye  of  Mina,  who  Mood  tremblingbchindCo-- 
lumbia,  he  bowed  low,  to  conceal  the  agitation  that  pre- 
vented his  articulating  a  (ingle  fontence.  At  length 
recovering,  and  obllinately  fixing  his  eyes  in  fuch  a 
manner  as  not  to  be  able  to  eatch  a  glimpl'e  of  Mina, 
he  thus  addreffed  the  lady  Ifabelle.- 

"  Our  angu(l  fovereign  Mary,  queen  of  England, 
hearing  that  Henry  Dudley,  fon  and  heir  to  the  lord 
Guilford  Dudley,  (who  fuffered  with  his  unfortunate 
lady  for  their  attempt  upon  the  lhitiih  crown)  is  un- 
der your  ladylhip's  protection,  and  wifhing  to  cempen- 
fate  to  the  child  for  the  enforced  vigour  with  which  the 

way 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  93 

was  obliged  to  treat;  his  parents,  has  cconmiffioned  me, 
James  Howard,  in  conjunction  with  thefe  noblemen 
and  ecclefiafHcs,  to  bring  the  boy  to  her  court,  that 
(he  may  reitore  to  him  the  title  and  eflates  of  htsfath- 
cr,  and  have  him  educated  m  the  principles  cf  that 
holy  religion,  which  alone  leads  to  falvation." 

The  full  eotfvi&ion  of  the  imprudence  ihe  had  been 
guilty  of,  and  the  duplicity  Howard  hud  practiled, 
now  ftafhed  on  the  mind  of  Midi.  She  gave  a  taint 
icre  mi,  and  funk  lifelefs  to  the  floor. 

Com,  whom  the  general  confuiion  had  brought  to 
the  apartment,  aflifted  to  raife  her,  and  (he  was  borne 
into  the  open  air.  It  was  not  till  ihe  was  quite  out  of 
the  room,  that  the  lovely  form  of  Columbia  attracted 
the  notice  of  Howard.  He  beheld  her  following,  with 
looks  of  the  tendereft  fenfibility,  the  apparently  lUelels 
form  of  her  fervant,  and  in  a  moment  every  other  ob- 
ject was  obliterated  from  his  mind.  He  fecrned  at- 
tentive to  the  lady  Ifabelle  as  ihe  fpoke,  but  his  ears 
drank  not  one  word  of  what  ihe  uttered ;  nor  was  he 
awakened  from  his  trance  of  admiration,  till  ihe  ceaf- 
ed  fpeaking,  and  prepared  to  lead  her  daughter  from 
the  room.  He  then  endeavoured  to  recollect  hlmielf, 
and  alkcd,  "  If  ihe  would  not  accompany  her  young 
charge  to  London  ?" 

"  I  thought  I  had  expreffed  my  intention  fo  to  do,'* 
replied  Ifabelle,  with  a  look  of  furprife  ;  "  if  you,  Sir 
James,  did  not  underftand  me,  I  here  repeat  that  1 
will  go  with  him.  Not  to  refign  my  precious  chargs 
to  the  queen,  but  to  afl'crt  my  prior  ria;ht,  the  right 
of  friendfhip,  fealcd  by  a  moil  folemn  vow,  that  Hen- 
ry Dudley  ihould  be  educated  in  the  religion  of  his  pa- 
rents. I  know  you  will  tell  me  there  are  tortures  to  en- 
force obedience  to  the  queen's  will ;  but  I  have  learnt 
to  defpiie  them.  Happinefs  and  I  have  long  been  fep- 
arated,  nor  do  I  hope  ever  to  tafte.  it  more,  till,  in  the 
realms  of  blifs,  I  am  again  united  to  my  martyred 
friends  and  hufband.  Think  not,  then,  the  threats  of 
death  can  terrify  me.  Death  is  the  only  period  I  can 
look  forward  to  with  caralnefs,  hone  and  comfort." 

She 


j+  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

She  then  flightly  bowed  her  head,  and  taking 
young  Dudley  in  her  right  hand,  and  leaning  on 
her  daughter  with  her  left,  fhe  parted  into  an  inner 
apartment. 

In  half  an  hour's  time,  fne  fent  a  meffage,  intimat- 
ing that  fhe  would  be  ready  to  attend  their  orders  by 
four  o'clock  the  enfuing  morning.  In  the  mean  time, 
/he  requefted  they  would  make  thtmfelves  welcome  to 
whatever  her  poor  habitation  afforded. 

It  was  late  in  the  day  before  Mina  was  fufEcicntly 
recovered  to  be  able  to  quit  her  apartment.  The 
weather  had  been  fultry,  the  anxiety  of  her  mind  had 
contributed  to  enervate  her  frame  ;  and  as  fhe  at- 
tempted to  walk,  the  univerfal  debility  and  weaknefs 
which  fhe  experienced  alarmed  her.  She  thought  the 
air  might  refrefh  her.  Paffing  from  her  chamber 
through  the  hall  into  the  garden,  the  firft  object  that 
met  her  view  as  fhe  defcended  the  fteps,  was  Rawlins. 
She  trembled,  fhe  gafped  for  breath  ;  but  fhe  recalled 
her  fleeting  fenfes,  and  haflily  gliding  down  the  fteps, 
catching  his  hand,  in  filence  hurried  him  to  an  obfeure 
part  of  the  garden.  There,  as  foon  as  the  tumultu- 
ous throbbings  of  her  heart  would  permit  her  to  fpeak, 
in  a  few  words  fhe  unfolded  to  him  the  unhappy  fitu- 
ation  of  her  lady  and  family  ;  but  fhanie  prevented 
her  revealing  the  unfortunate  part  ftie  had  uninten- 
tionally had  in  their  ruin. 

"  If  you  have  any  letters,"  faid  (he,  "  give  them 
me  quick,  and  then  fly  and  conceal  yourfelf  in  the 
weftern  ruins  till  I  can  bring  you  anfwers,  which  you 
mull  with  all  fpeed  convey  to  your  matter." 

Rawlins  gave  her  the  letters,  and  would  have  em- 
braced her ;  but  confeious  guilt  made  her  fhrink  from 
him,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  hand,  fhe  waved 
him  toward  the  place  of  concealment,  and  returned  lo 
the  houic.  She  palled  unoblerved  to v  the  apartment 
ol  her  lad}-,  and  delivered  the  packet  to  the  hands  of 
Columbia. 

Fortunately  Rawlins  had  not  been  feen  by  any  of 
Howard's  party  ;  and  Ifabelle,  having  allured  herfelf 
of  this,  determined  bv  his  means  to  fend  Henry  Dud- 

ley 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  95 

ley  into  Holland,  to  Sir  Egbert  Gorges.  She  even 
urged  Columbia  to  fly  with  the  child  from  the  perfe- 
cution  diat  awaited  them.  But  that  heroic  girl  refus- 
ed to  dcfert  her  mother  in  the  hour  of  diitreis.  "  Be- 
tides," faid  flie,  "  the  fafety  of  Henry  will  be  more 
certain,  when  Rawlins  has  no  woman  with  him,  with 
her  fears  and  her   weaknefs,  to   impede  his  journey." 

Ifabelle,  anxious  to  put  her  plan  in  execution,  at 
night-fall  fent  a  meflage  to  Howard  and  his  followers, 
.  craving  their  excufe,  that  the  preparations  for  the 
morning's  journey  would  not  permit  her  to  fee  them 
again  that  night  ;  but  that  fne  hoped  they  would  not 
fpare  her  poor  proviflons,  and  as  early  in  the  morning 
as  they  pleafed,  flie  would  commence  her  journey. 

Mina,  who  delivered  this  meffagc  to  them  as  they 
were  taking  their  rcpaft  in  the  great  hal],  led  young 
Dudley  by  the  hand  round  to  bid  them  all  good-night:; 
then  through  an  apartment,  which  by  a  private  d<  or 
communicated  with  the  weftcrn  wing,  hie  conveyed 
hum  immediately  to  Rawlins,  ,who  waited  till  mid- 
night ;  and  then  mounting  his  horfe,  with  the  child 
before  him,  proceeded  with  all  polhble  /'peed  to  the 
nearefl.  lea-port,  where  the  bark  lie  had  ci  me  o\cr  in 
laying  ready,  he  went  immediately  on  board,  and  pre- 
vailed on  the  maller:  by  promifes  of  a  large  reward,  to 
put  directly  to  fea. 

The  fortitude  Mina  had  been  obliged  to  * xcrt  in 
the  execution  of  this  plan  was  almoft  too  much  for  her 
frame  to  fupport.  The  facing  the  perjured  Howard, 
and  delivering  to  him  a  menage  from  her  lady,  the 
taking  what  lhe  firmly  believed  to  be  a  laft  farewel  ct 
Rawlins,  were  excruciating  trials.  But  fie  thought 
the  fevereit  (offerings  .were  too  little  to  atone  for  the 
miJchicf  (he  had  brought  on  the  houfe  of  Arundel  ; 
and  the  confolatory  reflection  that  flie  had  been  the 
means  of  faving  one  innocent  victim  from  the  power 
of  Mary,  having  fhed  a  temporary  calm  over  her  foul, 
..flic  enjoyed  a  few  hours  repefe,  which  in  fome  degree 
.enabled  her  to  fupport  the  cordufiop  of  the  enfuing 
jlay. 


96  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

T>y  three  o'clock,  Howard  and  his  followers  were 
in  motion.  Ifabelle  heard  them,  and  awaking  Colum- 
bia and  Mina,  who  that  night  both  flcpt  in  her  chamber, 
they  equipped  thcmf'elves  for  their  journey.  Their 
clothes  had  been  previoully  packed  the  night  before, 
and  lent  down  flairs. 

As  the  clock  ftruck  four,  the  widow  of  Arundel, 
with  her  daughter  and  attendant,  defcended  the  great 
flair-cafe  into  the  hall.  Howard  received  them  at  the 
foot  of  the  flairs  ;  but  not  perceiving  the  child,  eagcr- 
lv  inquired  for  him.  "  He  is  gone,"  faid  Ifabellc, 
v  irh  a  dignified  compofure  ;  "  but  that  he  has  efcaped 
is  not  your  fault.  -  I  have  fent  him  out  of  the  reach  of 
bigotry  and  cruelty,  and  am  now  ready  to  go  and  an- 
f.MT  to  the  queen  for  my  crime.  It  is  I,  I  only,  that 
am  guilty,  if  guilt  it  can  be  termed.  And  I  do  en- 
treat you,  Sir  James  Howard,  and  you,  holy  fathers, 
whole  profdTion  is  peace  and  mercy,  fuffer  not  thefe 
children,to  be  infulted  or  punifhed  for  my  faults.  To 
\(,\\,  Sir  James,  I  folemnly  commit  the  fafety  of  my 
daughter  ;  that  young  woman  is  her  attendant.  At- 
tached to  her  from  almoil  infancy,  I  do  befcech  you 
let  them  not  be  feparated.  Your  family  is  noble,  you 
wear  the  badge  of  a  foldier  ;  I  mould  hope  you  would 
neither  difgrace  the  one  or  the  other  by  injuring  un- 
protected women,  whom  ill  fortune  only  has  throwq 
into  your  power.  Now  I  am  ready  to  fet  forward, 
and  Heaven  be  my  fupport." 

The  niaJL-rty  of  her  manner  as  fhe  fpoke,  awed  them 
into  filencc.  Sir  James  Howard,  confounded  by  the 
pointed  rebuke  fhe  had  innocently  given  him,  when 
fhe  recommended  her  daughter  to  his  protection,  had 
not  power  to  anfwer  ;  nor  was  it  till  they  had  pro- 
ceeded a  confidcrable  way  on  their  journey,  that  they 
began  to  confidcr  the  very  foolifh  appearance  they 
fliould  make  at  the  court  of  Mary  without  Henry 
Dudley,  who  had  been  the  chief  object  of  their  ex- 
c-urfion. 

During  the  journey,  which  the  badnefs  oi"  the  roads 
and  the  heat  of  the  weather  rendered  fatiguing  and 
tedious  in  the  extreme,  Howard  let  no  opportunity- 
pa  is 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  97 

pafs  in  which  he  thought  he  could  effectually  pay  his 
court  to  Columbia.  But  the  confeflion  of  Mina  (who 
on  the  firtt  night  after  their  departure  from  Au  {ten- 
bury  Cattle,  had  on  her  knees  to  her  attonithed  ladies 
revealed  the  whole  of  her  imprudence,  and  Howard's 
fcductive  arts)  would  have  effectually  fteeled  her  heart 
againft  him,  had  there  been  no  other  motive  for  her 
rejection.  But  with  fuch  a  woman  as  Columbia,  the 
levity  and  unmeaning  gallantry  of  Sir  James  Howard 
could  make  no  impreffion  on  her  heart  ;  efpecially 
when  it  is  remembered  the  had  been  previously  awa- 
kened to  fenlibility  by  the  intrinfic  merit  of  Sir  Egbert 
Gorges. 

Ilabelle  and  her  daughter  bore  the  journey  better 
than  could  have  been  expected,  and  on  the  tenth  day 
from  the  commencement  of  it,  they  arrived  in  Lon- 
don. Mina  had  drooped  from  the  beginning,  and  was 
on  their  arrival  fo  ill,  from  fatigue  and  grief,  that 
there  teemed  but  little  hopes  of  her  recovery. 

The  old  fervants,  Cora  and  Matthias,  were  left  in 
the  Cattle,  heart-broken  for  the  departure  of  their  kind 
and  beloved  miflrefs.  Their  iblitary  days  were  paff- 
cd  in  enumerating  her  virtues,  and  in  offering  up  prav. 
•ers  for  her  fate  and  fpeedy  return. 

■•<■<  <  <  HPy -$■>)»'>  >■>•■>- 

CHAP.       XIII. 

Rev  Jut  ion — Tranquillity  rrjlored. 

ON  the  arrival  cf  Ilabelle  and  her  daughter  in 
London,  they  were  committed  to  clofc  confine- 
ment ;  though  by  the  care  c(  Howard,  whofe  power 
kept  the  ecclefiaftics  at  a  diftance,  they  were  treated 
wirli  refpect. 

The  enfumg  morning  Ifabclle  was  ordered  to  attend 
the  queen.  With  a  molt  threatening  afpect  did  Mary 
interrogate  her  on  the  fobject  of  Henry  Dudley's  ef- 
Cape,  and  demanded  to  know  where  (he  had  tent  him. 
The  widow  of  Arundel  was  inflexible.  She  only  re- 
K  piied.. 


)S  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

plied,  that  ihe  ha  J  ftnt  him  to  a  place  of  fafety;  that 
in  fo  doing  ihe  only  conceived  flie  had  performed  her 
duty,  fince,  heing  herfelf  convinced  of  the  errors  of 
the  Catholic  perfuaiion,  ihe  had  given  by  letter  a  fol- 
emn  promiie  to  his  dying  mother,  that  whillt  Ihe  lived, 
Henry  fhould  be  carefully  inftructed  in  the  tenets  of 
the  reformed  religion. 

Irritated  beyond  expreflion  by  the  noble  firmnef.% 
which  ihe  termed  obftinacy,  of  the  lady  Ifabelle,  Mary 
commanded  her  from  her  prefence  ;  at  the  fame  time 
giving  orders  for  her  to  be  put  to  the  torture,  to  force 
a  confeffipn  from  her.  But  Gardiner,  who  was  pref- 
tnt,  and  conceived  this  would  be  an  impolitic  memiirc 
of  the  queen's,  humbly  entreated  a  few  days  might  be 
allowed  for  reflection.  "  Perhaps,  moll  gracious  fove- 
reign,"  faid  the  dciigning  prelate,  "  your  royal  clem- 
ency may  have  a  more  powerful  effect  on  the  gen- 
erous mind  of  lady  Arundcd,  than  rigour  ;  and  the 
power  of  gratitude  may  draw  from  her  a  fecret, 
which  the  mod  cruel  tortures  might  not  effect. 

Ifabelle  was  preparing  to   fpeak   again,  but    How- 
ard, who  feared  fhc  might  too  far  irritate  the  queen, 
and  trembling  for  the  fate  of  Columbia,  hurried  her 
out  of  the  prefence.     Having   committed  her   to  the 
guards,   who    waited    to     reconduct    her  to   prifon, 
he  returned  to    the  queen,   and   informed  her  of  hi$ 
paflion    for  die    daughter  of  the    haughty    Ifabelle. 
"  She  is  young,  royal  madam,"  faid  he,  "  and  if  I  can 
judge  of  her  difpoiition  by  her  countenance,  might  be 
eaiily  converted  to  the  true  religion  ;  for  ihe  appears 
all    compliance,    affability   nnd    gentlenefs.      Permit 
me  to  try  to  bring  her  over   to  our  party.     When 
qnce  convinced  of  the  errors  of  the  faith  ihe  now  pro. 
feifes,  it  will  become  a  point  of  conference  with  her 
to  retrieve  young  Dudley  fom  his  prefent  loft  lfite." 
"   I   fnppofe   this   girl    is   handf  nie  I"    faid   Mar). 
u  I  fhould  x:\\\  her  fuperlatively  fo,  had  I  never  fcen 
your  majefty,"  replied   Howard,  bowing  profoundly, 
Mary,  though  at  this   period  pall  her  fortieth  year, 
naturally  plain  in  her  pcrfon,  and  now  more  than  ever 
em  the  ravages  of  a    difeafe  which   daily  gained 

"round 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  99 

ground  and  began  to  give  fome  very  alarming  fymp- 
toms,  was  (till  open  to  the  voice  of  flattery.  The 
compliment  of  Howard  had  an  inftantaneous  elTect  on 
her  temper.  She  fmiled,  and  told  him  (he  would  lee 
this  paragon.  "  I  will  converfe  with  her  myfelf,*' 
faid  (he,  "  and  endeavour  to  draw  her  by  perfuafive 
arguments  to  the  true  faith.  But  if  I  fail,  let  her  and 
her  proud  mother  beware.  Her  beauty  (hall  not  fave 
1  hem  ;  they  fhall  fubmit  to  the  punilhment  appointed 
for  obftinate  heretics." 

Columbia  had  differed  almofl  a  martyrdom  in  the 
abfence  of  her  mother  ;  a  thoufand  fears  had  didracl- 
cd  her.  Sometimes  lhe  imagined  ill c  lhould  never  fee" 
her  again  ;  that  the  furious  queen,  provoked  by  her 
fefufal  to  difcover  the  retreat  of  Henry  D' 
would  doom  her  immediately  to  the  flake  ;  then 
would  flic  wring  her  hands,  and  utter  the  molt  1  i< 
lamentation,  in  which  ihe  was  joined  by  Mina,  whole 
dillrcfs  was  the  more  poignant,  as  it  was  mingled  with 
felf-accufation.  At  length  lhe  beheld  her  return,  aiul 
her  joy  was  for  a  few  moments  as  wild  as  had  been 
her  for  row. 

Ifabelle  was  convinced  within  her  oval  mind,  that 
the  hour  drew  near  in  which  flie  would  be  called  upc  n 
to  feal  her  faith  with  her  blood,  and  endeavoured  to 
arm  herieli  with  patience  and  fortitude  for  the  ex- 
peeled  trial.  Every  hafty  ftep  (he  heard,  every  unu- 
iual  noiie  that  UTuedfrom  the  ftfeet,  flie  imagined  was 
ihe  meffengcr  of  her  fate.  But  (he  carefully  concealed 
thefe  thoughts  from  her  daughter,  thinking  to  fave 
her  the  mifery  of  hourly  expecting  an  event  that 
would  leave  her  an  unprotected  orphan,  and  which, 
however  (he  might  lament,  (he  had  no  power  cither 
to  prevent  or  retard; 

They  partook  but  fparingly  of  a  rcpafl  that  was 
brought  them,  when  Ifabcile  endeavoured  to  divert 
her  own  and  Columbia's  melancholy"  by  convcrfation  ; 
at  the  fame  time  (electing  th'ofc  fubjects  which  might 
tend  to  ftrcngthen  and  fortify  their  minds  againit  im- 
pending misfortune. 

.     The 


too         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

The  afternoon  was  not  more  than  half  worn,  when 
Howard  arrived  with  the  queen's  mandate  for  Colum- 
bia to  repair  forthwith  to  the  palace.  It  was  then  the 
tender  mother  had  need  cf  all  her  fortitude.  In  vain 
flie  pleaded  to  be  permitted  to  go  with  her  child  ;  it 
was  contrary  to  the  commands  of  Mary. 

Finding  entreaty  fruitlcfs,  fhe  embraced  her  with 
tendernefs,  and  faid,  "  Remember,  my  child,  thy  moth- 
er's happinefs  depends  on  thee.  Oh  beware  !  Suffer  no 
temptation,  however  great,  to  draw  thee  from  thy  du- 
ty to  thy  Creator.  No,  Columbia,  not  even  to  fave 
t lie  life  of  thy  mother,  let  thy  faith  be  fliaken.  If  I 
mull  fuffer,  let  me  at  leaf!  have  the  confolation  of  re- 
fledting,  in  my  laft  hours,  that  my  child  preferred  mil- 
cry  to  apoftacy.* 

*'  Fear  me  not, beloved  parent,"  replied  Columbia,  re- 
turning her  embrace,  f*  1  can  never  forget  the  noble 
'■.  samples  of  firmnefs  and  refcluiion  fet  me  by  my  an- 
cestors ;  and  if  the  remembrance  of  thofe  fhould  fail  to 
animate  me,  I  will  think  that  my  failure  in  fo  impor- 
tant a  point  would  call  a  bluih  into  the  face  of  my 
mother  ;  and  that  would  give  me  ftrength  to  with- 
stand all  temptation,  however  alluring,  and  defy  all 
threats,  all  tortures,  however  terrible  to  human  nature. 
Pray  for  me,  my  mother, pray  for  your  poor  child."  She 
fell  on  her  mother's  neck,  and  fobbed  aloud.  How- 
ard re-allured  them,  by  pledging  his  folemn  word,  that 
no  evil  was  intended  ;  and  taking  her  reluctant  hand, 
led  her  from  her  mother  into  the  prcfence  of  the 
queen. 

Columbia,  though  endowed  with  all  the  rigid  vir- 
tues that  fo  eminently  adorned  her  mother,  yet  had 
an  appearance  of  more  foftnefs  j  and  the  awe  a  young 
perfon,  totally  unacquainted  with  the  forms  of  courts, 
as  well  as  of  the  world  in  general,  might  be  fuppofed. 
to  feel  on  finding  herfelf  in  the  prefence  of  her  i'ovc-. 
reign,  and  that  Sovereign  inccni'ed  againft  her,  gave 
her  an  air  of  timidity  and  humility  highly  gratifying 
to  the  pride  of  Mary. 

The  queen  queftioned  her  concerning  the  departure 
of  young  Dudley.     «  He  went  away  with  a  fervant 

belonging 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  101 

belonging  to  a  particular  friend  of  my  mother's,"  laid 
the,  "  who  wifhed  me  to  have  gone  too,  but  my  love 
for  the  bell  of  parents,  and  my  confcience,  which  told 
me  I  ihould  be  wanting  in  filial  duty,  prevented  my 
embracing  the  propofal." 

"  Confcience  ?"  faid  Mary,  fiercely,  "  the  confcience 
of  a  heretic  cannot  be  fuppofed  very  tender  j  tell  me, 
are  you  not  a  heretic  ?" 

"  I  do  not  unueritand  the  meaning  of  the  appella- 
tion," replied  Columbia  mildly. 

"  I  will  endeavour  to  explain  it  to  you,"  faid  the 
queen  ;  "  come,  jhild,  be  not  alarmed.  I  will  talk 
with  you  a  little  on  religious  matters.  Your  igno- 
rance is  really  pitiable,  but  it  is  more  your  misfortune 
than  your  fault." 

"  I  humbly  pray  your  majefty  to  pardon  mc,"  re- 
plied Columbia  ;  "  I  am  a  weak  girl,  and  totally  in- 
adequate to  the  tafk  of  fpcaking  on  lb  reverend  a  fub- 
ject,  elpceially  before  a  perfon  of  your  majelly's  fupe- 
rior  underftanding  and  extenlive  erndition.  I  have 
hitherto  lived  a  peaceful,  happy  life,  unknowing  and 
Unknown  ;  where,  to  the  extent  of  my  abilities,  1  have 
endeavoured,  llrengtheUed  as  I  was  by  the  example 
of  a  refpeetable  mother,  to  difcharge  my  duty  both  to 
my  Creator  and  my  fellow  creatures.  I  befeech  your 
majefty,  furTer  me  to  return  to  that  cairn  retirement, 
where  the  remainder  of  my  days  may  glide  on.  in  pb- 
fcurity,  and  my  name  pal's  quietly  into  oblivion." 

"  1  fear,"  laid  Mary,  "  you  entertain  erroneous  ideas 
of  your  duties,  both  moral  and  religioui.  Your  faith 
and  mine  are  different."  Columbia  was  filent.  "  I 
will  appoint  fome  holy  men  to  viiit  your  mother  in 
her  retirement,"  continued  the  queen,  "  and  they  ihall 
alfo  inftruel:  you  in  the  tenets  of  cur  holy  church. 
Are  you  willing  to  be  inftrucled  and  converted  r" 

"  I  am  willing  to  be  inftrucled  by  wife  and  good 
pcrfons,"  replied  Columbia  ;  "I  will  liften  to  them 
with  patience  ;  and  if  my  reafon  is  convinced " 

"  It  muft,   it  will   be   convinced,"   faid   the   queen, 

eagerly,  "  unlcfs  you  wilfully  Ihut  your  eyes  and  cars." 

K  2  "  And 


ioj         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

**  And  that  I  hope  I  never  (hall  do,"  faid  Colum- 
bia, fervently,  "  againft  the  light  of  truth." 

Mary  was  fatisfied,  and  diimiffed  lier,  and  ihe  was 
conveyed  by  the  guards  to  the  arms  of  her  impatient 
and  anxious  mother. 

Both  Howard  and  the  queen  from  this  interview  en- 
tertained fanguine  hopes  of  converting  Columbia. 
They  did  not  perceive  that  all  her  anfwers  were  am- 
biguous, and  might  have  been  explained  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent  fenfe  than  the  one  they  took  them  in. 

Howard  feized  the  favourable  moment  of  the 
queen's  good  humour,  to  requeil  tjje  charge  of  the 
prilbners  might  devolve  on  him.  "  I  have  a  houfe, 
moft  gracious  fovereign,"  faid  he,  "  not  far  from  Lon- 
don ;  forne  of  the  apartments  have  heretofore  been 
ufed  as  a  ftate  prifon.  Suffer  me  to  convey  the  widow 
of  Arundel  and  her  daughter  thither  ;  I  will  anfwei 
for  their  being  kept  in  fafe  cuftody,  with  my  life.  In 
the  mean  time,  my  confeifor,  with  whatever  other  ec- 
cleiiaftic  your  majefty  may  pleafc  to  appoint,  can  viiit 
them  every  day." 

"  I  fee,"  faid  the  queen  with  a  half  fmile,  "  you  wilh 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  profecuting  your  fuit  to  the 
fair  daughter  of  Arundel  without  interruption.  Well, 
be  it  as  you  deilre  ;  into  your  charge  I  commit  them, 
and  at  the  hazard  of  your  head,"  continued  flie,  ftern- 
ly,  "  be  they  forth  coming  whenever  I  demand  them. 
For  by  the  crown  of  my  anceftors  I  fwear,  they  lhall 
not  efcape  my  vengeance,  unlefs  they  renounce  their 
heretical  opinions,  and  give  up  young  Dudley  to  my 
power." 

Howard,  pleafed  tlr.it  by  this  manoeuvre  he  had  got 
the  perfon  cf  Columbia  entirely  in  his  power,  thanked 
the  queen  for  her  condefcenfion,  reiterated  prcmifei  of 
not  permitting  them  to  efcape,  and  haftened  to  the 
place  of  their  confinement,  where  he  informed  the  lady 
Ifabelle  and  her  daughter,  that  he  had  prevailed  on 
the  queen  to  let  him  remove  them  to  a  martfion  of  his 
own,  not  far  from  London.  "  You  will  there,"  faid 
he,  "have  the  benefit  of  the  air,  and  the  indulgence  of 
fomctimes  exerciSng   ;  ourfclf  in  the  garden.     But  I 

have 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  i:j 

have  obtained  this  favour  at  the  hazard  of  your  dif- 
pleafure  ;  for  I  have  premised  the  queen  tint  you  will 
daily  converfe  with  ecclefiaftics  ot  the  Catholic  perfua- 
lion.  Your  patience  one  moment,  dear  lady,"  feeing 
Ilabelle  was  about  to  reply,  "it  is  what  you  mult 
fabimt  to  ir"  you  remain  here-  Let  me  on  my  knees 
entreat  you,  then,  to  fuftVr  me  to  convey  you,  and 
this  angel  your  daughter,  out  of  the  reach  of  the  ty- 
ranny of  Mary.  Whikl  you  remain  (ecluded  in  her 
.ee,  the  inftrumeuts  of  her  power  may,  in  the  dead 
of  night,  ruili  in  and  facrince  you  to  her  vengeance  ; 
but  under  my  roof  you  will  at  leaft  be  fecure  from 
fudden  ioluk  and  furprife,  and  Ihould  (he  menace  your 
precious  lives,  I  will  preferve  them  at  the  hazard  of 
my  ov.-n," 

"  Howard,"   faid  Ilabelle,    "I    would   fain    believe 

your  profeflions  are  fincere  ;  but  ■when  I  remember  who 

ayed  us  into  the  power  of  the  queen,  how  can  1  :" 

Tins  was  the  firft  moment  Howard  had  furpected 
that  Mina  had  difcovcrcJ  his  frequent  viJits  at  Auf- 
tenbury  Cafllc  He  had  Urovc  ieveval  times,  during 
their  journey,  to  draw  her  apart  from  her  ladies,  but 
in  vain.  She  had  always  carefully  avoided  him.  But 
tin's  he  thought  proceeded  from  her  fears  of  awakening, 
fufpicion  ;  nor  did  he  once  imagine  fhe  would  confide 
an  intcrcourfe,  that  would  appear  fo  much  to  her  dis- 
advantage, to  the  ear  of  a  woman  fo  rigidly  virtuous 
as  Ifabelle.  It  is  true,  Ifabelle  was  rigid  :':>  her  own 
practice  ;  but  flie  always  made  a  juft  diilinction  be- 
tween the  errors  incident  to  human  nature,  and  pre- 
meditated guilt.  For  the  folly  of  Mina,  (he  found  an 
excufe  in  her  (implicit)',  and  ignorance  of  the  world  ; 
bat  tor  the  art  and  ("eduction  practiced  by  Howard, 
Hie  felt  only  contempt  and  horror. 

"  What  reliance,"  continued  (lie,  (tedfafily  fixing 
her  eyes  on  his  face,  "  what  reliance  can  I  place  on 
the  word  of  a  man,  who  by  flattering  promifes  drew 
an  artlefs, innocent  girl  to  her  ruin,whil(t  from  the  open- 
nefs  of  her  unfufpecting  nature,  he  learnt  fecrets,  the 
divulging  of  which  has  plunged  her  only  friends  and 
benefactors  in  unavoidable  delhuction  r" 

The 


t 


04        REUBEN   and    RACHEL;  or, 

\  The  check  of  Howard  glowed  with  the  crimfon  tint 
of  Ihame.  The  penetrating  eye,  the  forcible  voice  of 
Ifabelle,  funk  to  his  heart. 

1  "  I  have  been  to  blame,"  faid  he,  in  accents  fcarce- 
Wj  audible,  "  but  do  not  too  hailily  condemn  me. 
Allow  fomcthing  to  the  impetuofity  of  youthful  paf- 
iion  ;  and  if,  betrayed  by  an  enthufiailic  partiality  to 
the  religion  in  which  I  was  educated,  1  battened  to  in- 
form my  fovereign  where  me  might  find  the  offspring 
of  Dudley  and  lady  Jane,  let  it  be  fome  expiation  cf 
my  error,  that  I  am  feverely  puniJhed  in  having  unin- 
tentionally involved  two  ladies  in  misfortune,  who,  to 
every  grace  that  can  excite  admiration,  unite  every 
virtue  that  mould  command  elleem.  Let  not,  I  be- 
icech  you,  the  difcovery  of  my  errors  blind  you  to 
what  is  abfolutely  neceflary  to  your  own  intereft  and 
fafety,  nor,  by  obftinately  refufing  the  afylum  I  offer, 
heap  frclh  guilt  upon  me,  by  making  mc  in  a  manner 
afcelfory  to  your  death,  and  that  of  your  lovely 
daughter.  The  beauty  and  innocence  of  the  fair  Co- 
lumbia have  already  awakened  in  the  breaft  of  Mary 
a  malignant  mint,  which  fhe  will  be  glad  to  gratify 
by  facrificing  her  to  her  pretended  zeal  ;  ior  your 
daughter  has  already  exprelfed  her  attachment  to  the 
reformed  religion,  in  terms  too  pointed  to  be  over- 
looked. Another  interview  with  the  queen,  and  flie 
will  be  loft  beyond  recovery." 

Howard  paufed  for  an  anfwer.  The  mind  of  Ifa- 
belle was  in  a  (late  of  agony.  Her  own  life  would; 
have  been  nothing  ;  (he  would  have  defpifed  the  pro- 
tection of  Howard,  and  undauntedly  braved  the  pow- 
er of  the  queen  ;  but  her  child,  her  thirling  Columbia, 
her  fate,  perhaps,  hung  on  her  anfwer.  She  was  with- 
in the  reach  of  the  bigottcd  queen,  Howard  might  pro- 
tect, might  lave  her.  What  mother,  in  inch  a  cafe, 
could  hefitate  i 

Ifabelle  bowed  her  head,  and,  in  a  voice  tremulous 
through  fear  and  ftifled  indignation,  affented  to  his 
propofal.  A  fhort  time  fixfjRced  for  preparation,  and 
that  very  night  they  flept  in  the  houfe  cf  Howard, 
atHamftead,  iffleep  it  could  be  called,  when  to  their 

other 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  ice. 

other  anxiety  was  added  the  difappearance  of  Mina. 
She  came  with  them  to  the  boufe,  retired  after  they 
had  taken  fome  refrcihment,  and  when  the  hour  of  relt 
arrived,  was  not  to  be  found.  Howard  was  fufpected 
by  Ifabelle,  but  Howard  had  departed  with  the  letting, 
fun,  and  could  not  be  queltioned. 

At  the  firft  appearance  of  day,  Columbia  arofe  ; 
and  for  the  firft  time,  eagerly  counted  the  hours  that 
would  moft  probably  intervene  before  (lie  couid  hope  to 
fee  Howard.  The  morning  wore  heavily  away ;  Ifabelle 
was  dejected  and  uncafy  ;  her  daughter  endeavoured 
to  hide  her  own  painful  fenfations,  that  flie  might  di- 
vert the  anxiety  of  her  rccthcr. 

About  noon,  their  attention  was  aroufed  by  the  en- 
trance of  two  eccleiiaftics,  who  were  appointed  by 
the  queen  to  vifit,  exhort,  and  endeavour  to  convert 
the  two  prifoners.  Ifabelle  heard  them  in  iilcncc. 
Columbia  was  feveral  times  on  the  point  of  replying  ; 
but  a  reproving  look  from  her  mother  reprelled  her 
thoughts  before  her  lips  could  give  them  utterance. 

At  the  conclufion  of  the  conference,  the  widow  of 
Arundel  ventured  to  inquire  of  thefe  religious  men 
if  they  had  any  knowledge  of  the  fate  of  Mina  ;  but 
fhe  received  from  them  a  ftcrn  reproof,  .and  was  bid 
to  think  more  of  eternal  and  lefs  of  temporal  things 
as  her  deftiny  was  us  yet  undetermined,  and  it  remain- 
ed folely  with  herfclf  whether  a  few  days  would 
ftate  her  in  her  late  hufband's  forfeited  eftatv 
property,  or  fign  the  mandate  for  her  death. 

When   the   priefts  left  her,  the  fortitude'* 
feemed  entirely   to  forfake  her.      She    I  arms 

round  the  neck  of  her  daughter,  and  gave   \ 
involuntary  gufli   of  tears,     1        snl  1a,      ...   tecicd, 
dependent  on  the  bounty,  and  li.    !;  to  be  enmared  by 
the  artifice  of  Howard,  was   pi:',  red  to  her  im:>. 
tion  in  colours  fo  ftrong,   that   {he    :oald  not  fuj 
the  idea. 

Thus  miferably  did  day  after  day  wear  on,  diverfi- 
ficd  only  by  the  tedious  exhortations  of  the  monks, 
and  the  agoni.-.hig  feelings  of  fulpenfe  and  apprehc;\- 
fion.     A  fortnight   was   now  paft,  and   they  ha  J    not 

once 


io6        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;   or, 

once  feen  Howard.  They  were  attended  with  rc- 
fpcctful  affiduity  ;  they  had  hut  to  name  a  wWh,  and  it 
was  inftantly  complied  with.  And  only  that  they 
were  not  permitted  to  pals  the  boundaries  of  the  gar- 
den wall,  their  lituation  might  have  been  thought  en- 
viable. 

The  charms  of  autumn  were  now  beginning  to  fade, 
and  winter  was  rapidly  approaching,  when  one  even- 
ing, after  a  chilly  walk  to  the  extremity  of  the  ave- 
nue of  ancient  elms  that  fronted  the  houfe,  as  Ifabelle 
and  her  daughter  were  fitting  down  to  their  repair, 
experiencing  fome  fmall  degree  of  comfort,  in  the 
neatnefs  of  their  apartment,  and  the  cheerful  blaze  of 
a  wood  fire  that  glowed  on  the  hearth,  they  were 
ilartlcd  by  a  loud  knocking  at  the  gate,  and  in  left 
than  two  minutes  Howard  flood  before  them.  Spite 
of  the  reafons  they  had  for  dilliking  him,  yet  their 
long  feclufton  from  all  fociety,  (except  the  perfect- 
ing zealots  who  daily  vilited  and  tormented  them)  the 
many  comforts  they  had  through  his  means  enjoyed, 
and  the  earned:  wiih  they  had  to  inquire  after  die  fate 
of  Mina,  gave  to  their  countenances  an  air  of  plcafure 
that  was  not  altogether  foreign  to  their  hearts.  I  fa- 
belle  arofe  from  her  feat  as  he  entered ;  Columbia  ad- 
vanced two  or  three  fteps  towards  him,  and  half  ex- 
tended her  hand  to  welcome  him.  Thefe  tokens  of 
joy  at  his  appearance,  thrilled  to  the  enraptured  heart 
of  Howard.  He  eagerly  fprang  forward,  caught  the 
half-reluctant  hand,  and,  dropping  on  one  knee,  im- 
printed on  it  a  fervent  kifs.  The  action  recalled  their 
momentarily  forgotten  dignity  ;  the  features  of  Ifabelle 
aflumed  their  ufual  frigidity.  Columbia  blufhed  fear- 
let  deep,  and  putting  him  from  her  with  a  rejecting 
motion,  "  Rife,  Sir,"  faid  the,  '*  nor,  by  uifeded  hu- 
mility, infult  your  prifoners." 

Howard  now  haltened  to  inform  them,  that,  anx- 
ious only  for  their  fafety,  he  had  been  afliduous  in  his 
court  to  the  queen,  and,  bribing  the  priefts  to  conceal 
the  ill  fuccefs  of  their  endeavours,  he  had  perfuaded 
Mary  that  there  was  more  than  probable  hopes  cf 
their  convcrlion.     "  But   I  fear,"   continued  he,   "  I 

fhall 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         107 

{hall  not  long  be  able  to  elude  her  fufpicious  vigilance. 
She  this  afternoon  hinted  fomething  of  recalling  you 
to  London,  examining  you  herielf,  and  accordingly 
as  (he  found  you  inclined,  either  receive  you  into  the 
boibm  ef  the  church,  or  give  orders  for  your  immedi- 
ate execution." 

"  Then  our  fate  is  inevitable,"  faid  Ifabelle,  with  as 
much  firmneis  as  (he  could  aflume.  Columbia  caft  a 
look  of  unutterable  tendernefs  at  her  mother,  and, 
gafping  to  fupprefs  the  anguifli  of  her  heart,  cried, 
"Yes,  my  mother,  we  will  die  together." 

"  Not  fo,"  laid  Howard,  ftruck  with  the  magna- 
nimity of  the  two  charming  women  ;  M  not  fo.  My 
employment  at  court,  which  places  me  almofl  imme- 
diately about  the  perfon  of  the  queen,  gives  me  an 
opportunity  of  knowing  her  deligns  almoft  as  foon  as 
lhe  conceives  them.  I  will  attentively  watch  her  ; 
not  a  command  lhall  be  itfued  forth  of  which  I  will 
not  learn  the  motive  and  intent  ;  and  mould  1  rind 
her  aim  at  the  lives  of  my  lovely,  my  eftccmed  prifon- 
crs,  I  will  deliver-  them  from  her  power,  or  die  in  their 
defence." 

Ifabelle  ejaculated  an  exprefhon  of  gratitude,  and 
Columbia,  in  tremulous  accents,  ventured  to  inquire 
after  Mina.  But  Howard,  wit)  a  look  of  furprifc, 
protefted  his  entire  ignorance  of  her  abfence  in  terrrs 
ib  polkive,  that  it  appeared  impouible  any  longer  to 
doubt  his  veracity. 

The  rema;>:dcr  of  the  evening  was  fpent  in 
converfe.  He  inquired  if  they  had  all  the  accommo- 
dations they  wiflied,  and  if  their  commands  had  been 
readily  obeyed  by  their  attendants  ?  On  taking  leave, 
he  reqnefted  them  to  be  conllantly  read;-  fur  a  remov- 
al, as  he  'iild  take  care  to  give  them  early  notice  (  f 
impending  ianger,  and  provide  them  with  horfes  and 
attendants  to  facilitate  their  efcape. 

After  this  vilit,  their  time  was  pafied  in  the  ufual 
way,  till  the  morning  of  the  feventh  of  November  ; 
when,  juft  before  day,  Howard  arrived,  attended  by  a 
numerous  retinue,  and,  hurrying  Ifabelle  and  Colum- 
bia from  their  beds  tcld  them  the  moment  fo  loag 

dre 


io8  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

■dreaded  was  at  hand,  and  nothing  but  immediate 
flight  could  fave  them.  They  arofe  with  precipita- 
tion, and  mounting  the  horfes  that  flood  ready  for 
them,  proceeded,  With  all  the  expedition  their  ftrength 
-would  permit,  to  the  borders  of  the  kingdom  next  the 
Tea  on  the  coatt  of  Suffolk,  where,  in  a  mutilated  for- 
trefs,  (a  very  fmall  part  of  which  was  habitable)  How- 
ard requefted  them  to  rcpofe,  till,  as  he  faid,  a  veffel 
fhould  arrive,  the  mailer  of  which  had  orders  to  meet 
.them  there,  to  convey  them  in  fafety  to  Holland,  Ger- 
many, or  fome  place  of  fecuiity. 

Fatigued,  difpirite'd,  and  ill,  Ifabclle  attended  but 
little  to  the  defolate  appearance  of  their  habitation, or 
the  few  accommodations;  they  were  likely  tomcetv.ith 
in  thir,  lblitary  place.  A  numerous  alfemblage  of 
male  domeftics  had  attended  them  on  their  journey  ; 
but  they  faw  only  one  female  throughout  the  whole 
dreary  manfion,  and  Pie  was  almott  infcufible  through 
age  and  infirmity,  being  quite  deaf  and  nearly  blind. 
However,  fiie  performed  the  mott  menial  offices,  and 
Ifabelle  was  too  intent  on  the  miferiesof  her  fituation, 
and  the  danger  to  which  Columbia  would  be  expofed, 
Should  they  be  difcovcred  and  forced  back  to  the  court 
of  Mary,  to  feel  any  of  thofe  inconveniencies,  which 
.in  her  more  profperous  days  would  have  appeared  in- 
tolerable. 

All  hope  of  a  departure  from  England  during  the 
winter  feafon  {©on  vanifhed  ;  the  weather  became  un- 
commonly tempettuous,  the  fnow  fell  in  great  quan- 
tities, and  the  frofi;  was  intenfe.  Howard  was  the 
■conttant  inmate  of  their  gloomy  manfion  ;  for,  under 
pretence  that  his  life  was  in  danger  on  account  of  his 
•having  aided  their  efcape,  he  fecluded  himfelf  with 
them,  and  declared  his  intention  to  accompany  them, 
whenever  die  weather  would    permit   them  to  depart. 

During  the  dreary  months  of  December  and  Janua- 
ry, he  endeavoured,  by  amufing  converfation,  and  a 
dilplay  of  the  various  accomplifhmer.ts  of  which  he 
was  matter,  at  once  to  divevf  the  melancholy  of  the 
lady  Ifabelle,  and  awaken  the  attention  of  Columbia. 
•But  he  prefently  perceived  his  endeavours  were  inet- 

fcclual ; 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  109 

effectual  ;  the  defpondency  of  the  mother  daily  in- 
creafed,  till  it  almoft  bordered  on  defpair,  and  every 
tender  emotion  of  the  daughter's  heart  was  excited  by 
hope,  fear,  and  conftant  anxiety  for  the  fate  of  the  ab- 
fent  Sir  Egbert  Gorges. 

This  dil'covery  once  made,  it  became  the  bnfinefs  cf 
Howard  to  undermine  a  paffion,  which  militated  fo 
powerfully  againft  his  fuccefs.  To  this  end,  he  fre- 
quently pretended  to  receive  private  news  from  Lon- 
don, and  among!!  other  incidents,  related  one  day,  in 
a  fecmingly  carelefs  manner,  that  a  number  of  heretics 
had  been  executed,  naming  feveral,  and  at  laft  Sir 
Egbert. 

Columbia  was  prefent  ;  he  eyed  her  attentively. 
She  did  not  fliriek,  flic  did  not  faint  ;  but  the  blood 
forfook  her  lips  and  cheeks,  her  heart  beat  violently, 
flic  raifed  her  fweet  eyes  mournfully  to  his  face,  and 
attempted  to  afk  a   1  ,  m  :.f  the   fatal  tidings. 

But  the  words  died  upon  her  tongue  ;  fiie  struggled  in 
vain  to  give  them  utterance  ;  her  voice  was  inarticu- 
late. She  claiped  her  /-.andi,  leaned  her  head  on  her 
mother's  moulder,  and  large  tears  rolled  in  flow  and 
filent  fucceffion  down  her  cold  checks.  Such  mute 
grief,  men  figns  of  real  anguiih,  moved  the  heart  cf 
Howard,  He  attempted  to  comfort  her  ;  but  Ifabelle 
waved  him  from  the  apartment ;  when  taking  her 
daughter  tenderly  in  her  arms,  llic  footbed,  confoled, 
and  lympathized  with  her,  till  her  tears  flowed  more 
free-y,'and  by  degrees  fhe   became  compofed. 

Howard  hud  always  been  open  in  his  declaration  of 
love  for  Columbia  5  it  was  therefore  not  furpriflng  that 
he  continued  his  fait,  or  th  it,  being  thus  conftantly  in 
her  fociety,  he  mould  plead  his  paffion  with  more  than 
comm<  n  fervour.  She  in  general  heard  him  in  <i- 
lence  ;  but  if  prefTed  to  :  •  ply  %vas  always 

thai  her  heart  was  dead    j 

lie  applied  to  rfabelle  :   :   e  urged  the   d;fu;rencf  cf 
the.r  religions,  even  was  Columbia    inclined  to  favour 
him.     Hepromifed   fhe  Pnould  never  be  djfturl 
the  free  exercife  of  her  religious   duties,  acrord:-r  <  , 
what  fhe   thought   right  ;  and  fcTabelle,   v.crn  0 
L 


;o         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ftant    anxiety,    feeling    her   health   daily    decline, 

:ly  believing  Sir  Egbert  Gorges  dead,  and  wiihing 

to  fecure  for  her  child  a  noble  and  pc vcrful  protector, 

at  length  feemed  inclined  to  liften  to  him,  and  to  plead 

his  e  a  life  with  Columbia. 

The  advice  and  reafonings  of  her  mother  ever  had 
due  weight  with  this  amiable  girl  ;  and  though  when- 
ever her  parent  mentioned,  that  in  all  human  proba- 
bility, a  few  months  would  put  a  period  to  her  exig- 
ence, (lie  would  mentally  offer  up  a  prayer,  that  her 
own  life  might  terminate  in  the  very  fame  moment 
with  that  of  her  maternal  friend.  Yet  as  fhe  faw  her 
mother  fecretly  wiilied  to  fee  her  united  to  Howard, 
fhe  endeavoured  to  difpofe  her  mind  for  fuch  a  union, 
tacitly  confented  to  liften  to  his  fuit,  and  at  die  com- 
mencement of  the  enfuing  fummer,  to  give  him  her 
hand. 

With  flow  and  tardy  ftcps  winter  receded  ;  and 
fpring  began  to  ftiow  her  fmiling  face,  and  wreath  her 
modeft  brows  with  fnow-drops,  crocufes,  and  prim- 
rofes.  All  nature  feemed  to  wear  a  cheerful  afpccT  } 
but  the  heart  of  Columbia  partook  not  of  the  hilarity 
the  vernal  fealhn  was  ever  wont  to  infpire.  If  at  any 
time  die  feemed  to  enjoy  a  gleam  of  fatisfaclion,  it 
was 'When  ihe  was  wandering  through  the  woods,  re- 
irking  the  daily  increafc  of  the  foliage,  or  feated  on 
a  rock  by  the  fea-fhore,  liftening  to  the  fatten  murmur 
of  the  waves,  Or  watching  them  as  they  conftantly 
fucceeded  each  other,  darning  againft  the  rude  crags 
tint  luing  frowning  over  their  fource. 

It  was  about. tile  middle  of  May  ;  the  lady  Ifabelle 
had  declined   walking,    though  the   evening   was    re- 
markably line.     Howard    had  been   abfent   from  the 
Caftle  two  days;  his  abfence  was  a   relief  to  the  dc- 
'  jetted    fpirits  .of  Columbia.     She   took    her    rolitary 
'ramble  "through    the  wood.     The  fragrance    of  the 
r  air,  the  ferenity  of  the  ft.y,  the  melody  of  the 
,  thered  race  who  were  chanting  their  vefper  fong  of 
thankfulnefs,  awakened  in  her  boforo   fomething  like 
ftrayed  to  her  ufaal  feat  by  the  lea 
ftde,  and  indulged  in  the  plefafulable  fenfations  the fa?> 

roundirg 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  lit 

rounding  profpect  infpired.  Pleafure  had  long  been  a 
Granger  to  her  heart,  and  lhe  welcomed  her  return, 
though  in  lb  flight  a  degree,  with  an  emanation  of 
gratitude  to  the  benignant  Power,  who  had  ordained 
that  time  fhould  weaken  and  meliorate  the  fevereft 
affliction. 

Entirely  occupied  by  her  own  refactions,  fhe  did 
not  obiervc  any  perfon  near  her  till  a  young  woman 
addrefled  her,  and  inquired  the  way  to  the  Caille.  "  I 
want  to  fee  our  matter,"  faid  fhe,  "  for  the  young  lady 
he  put  to  live  Wjith  mother  be  very  lick,  and  mother 
fays  fhe  do  think  the  will  die." 

"  I  am  going  to  the  Calllc,"  faid  Columbia,  rif.ng, 
"and  will  iliew  you  the  way." 

"  Where    does    your  mother  live  ?"  continued  fhe  ; 
"  and  how  does  it  happen,   that  as  you  call  Sir    , 
Howard  your  mailer,  you  do  not  know  the  way  to  his 
dwelling  :" 

"  Why  daify  me,"  replied  the  young  woman,  "  no. 
body  never  lived  in  that  there  old  place  lince  I  call 
u-member,  till  manor  cum'd  here  latt  winter  ;  and  to 
be  lure,  mother  faid,  feeing  as  how  Sir  James  . 
Ilngie  man,  and  wildiih  orfo,  it  was  belt;  lor  brother  to 
go  when  the  lady  wanted  to  lend  ft  r  him  ;  hue  brother 
never  went  only  into  the  hitching,  and  fo  never  I 
ed  whether  there  was  any  ladies  there;  but  mayhap 
you  be  cum'd  here  lately." 

"  How  far  from  the  Caftle  do  von  live,  my  dear  :'' 
faid  Columbia,  planning  i-i  her  mind  a  vim  to  the  lick 

14  About  two  miles,"  replied  ' 
in  a  valley  near  the  fe  i  j  it  be  but  . 

.    and   nobody   lives  there    but    fi  .      But 

father  was  afear'd  to  ftay  in  town,  cai  L  as  how  i 
Mary  had  ordered  all   the  heretics  to  1  .'and 

father  and  mother  be  both   heretics,  and  fo  we  c 
and  lived  here  ;  and  we  had  like  t< 
ble  there.      For  Sir  James  be  one  of  M  l 
that's  no  matter  now,   feeing  that  (he  be  dea  '. 
hope  (be  repented  ot  all  her  crueltj  before  fhe  d 


ii2         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  Before  who  died  r"  faid  Columbia  ;  "  who  are 
■  Calking  about,  my  good  girl  ?" 

"  Why  about  queen    -:  try,  madam." 

"  Is  queen  Mary  dead  ?" 

44  Laws  daily,  yes  ;  ilie  died  laft  November  ;  and 
then  we  mould  have  gone  heme,  only  father  was  took 
fick  and  died,  an  fo  mother " 

The  girl  might  have  run  on  for  an  hour.  Colum- 
bia would  not  have  interrupted  her.  Mary  dead — 
jfcad  fo  long,  and  Howard  ftill  detaining  her  mother 
and  felf  in  that  folitary  place,  gave  her  an  idea  that 
his  defigns  were  not  laudable  or  honourable  ;  and  then 
ft  ray  of  hope  darted  into  h<-r  mind,  that  he  had  de- 
ceived her  in  reporting  the  death  of  Gorges.  She 
quickened  her  fteps ;  fhe  longed  to  cheer  her  mother 
with  this  new-born  h:pe.  Betides,  if  Mary  was  dead, 
no  doubt  her  Gfter  Elisabeth  rilled  the  throne.  She 
aHced  the  queftion,  and  was  anfwered  in  the  affirma- 
tive. Her  heart  bounded  at  the  tidings  ;  fhe  fcarcely 
touched  the  ground,  fo  light  and  fwiftly  did  fhe  pais 
over  it.  She  left  her  young  companion  below  with 
the  old  fcrvant,  and  flying  to  her  mother,  imparted  to 
her  all  fhe  had  heard/  all  fhe  fufpe&ed,  and  all  fhe 
fondly  hoped. 

••<  <  •<  <  <<*t?j  t"^»-  >•  > •■►•  >- 

CHAP.      XIV. 

Change  of  Scen:x   Weddings*  Burials,    and  Chr{fteningt» 

SABELLE  joined  her  daughter  in  feverely  cen- 
furing  the  conduct  of  Howard,  by  comparing  the 
time  of  their  departure  from  Hamflead  with  that  of 
the  late  queen's  death.  They  found  they  were  re- 
moved on   the  morning   following  the  night  fhe  died. 

"We  are,  I  fear,  m  the  power  of  a  villain,"  fatd 
Ifabelle,  "but  we  mart  exert  ourfelves  to  (hake  off 
this  bondage  in  which  he,  contrary  to  the  laws  of  his 
country,  detains  us.  I  will  feck  the  protection  of  my 
fovereien,  nor  longer  perfuade  my  child  to  give  her 
&  hand 


TALKS    of    OLD    TIMES.  113 

hand  oppofed  againft  her  heart.  Howard  is  ft  ill  ab- 
feirt,  nor  do  I  think  he  will  return  to-night.  We  will 
leave  his  dreary  prifon,  and,  conducted  by  the  young 
woman  you  mention,  feek  an  afylum  among .1  the 
poor  filhermen  ;  they  may  perhaps  procure  us  a  con- 
veyance to  fome  neighbouring  town  from  whence  we 
may  get  to  London." 

"  Alas  !   my  dear  mother,"   faid  Columbia,  "  you 
forget  that  we  have  no  money." 

4<<  1  have  a  trifle,  my   child,"   fhe  replied,   "  and  we 
muft  fummon  all  our  fortitude   to  brave  even   hard- 
flrip  and  danger  without  fhrinking.     We   are  women, 
it  is  true,    and   ought   never  to  forget  the  delic 
our  fex  ;  but  real  delicacy  con  lilts  in  purity  1 
and  chaftity  of  words  and  actions  ;  not  in  fliudd 
at  an  accidental  blalt  of  wind,  or   incrtafing    t1: 
voidable  evils   of  life  by  afie&ed  weaknefs  and  t 
ty.     How  many  of  our  fex  are  obliged   by  har 
daily  labour,   to  procure   for  thcmfelves   and  children 
the   bare    means  of  exiitence  !     How  many  bnr\ 
fccriiies  of  the   mod  inclement   feafons,   with  hardly 
covering  fufficient   to  keep    them  from    periihing  !     I 
allow  that  you  and   I,   my  beloved   child,   have  been" 
accustomed  to  tenderer  ufagc  ;  but  we  are  particular- 
ly called  upon  at  tins  time,  to  exert    the  llrength    and 
faculties  of  both   mind  and  body,  with  which  nature 
has  bountifully  endowed  us.'1 

"  Oh  !  my  adored  mother,"  faid  Columbia, "  taught 
ur  bright  precept  and  example,  I  feel  11  yielf 
equal  to  almoft  any  trial.  But  ill  as  you  are,  to  un- 
dertake fo  long,  fo  fatiguing  a  journey,  without  f-he 
means  oi~  procuring  either  comforts  or  conveniences, 
ir"  you  mould  fink  under  ir,  who  then  would  a 
conJ'ole  and  direct  your  orphan  Colombia  :" 

"  Courage,  my  love,"  replied  Ifabelle  ;  "  I  am  not 
fo  ill  as  y<  anxiety  leads  you  to  think  I  am. 

Believe  me,  the  agitation  of  the  mind  weakens  and 
enervates  the  whole  fyftem.  The  heart,  eafed  of 
a  I  ..  1  of  anguilh,  heats  lighter,  gives  a  freer  play  to 
lb:  lungs,  and  a  fwifter  circulation  to  the  blood. 
mducive  to  health  than  change  of  air 
L  2  and 


ii4         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

and  esercife  ?  Bcfides,  I  have  now  feme  object  in 
view,  which  will  give  conftant  employment  to  my 
thoughts.     Employment   naturally    begets   cheerful- 

nefs.  Nothing  is  more  pernicious  to  die  health  of 
mind  or  body,  than  indolence  and  inaction.  The  {'ac- 
uities become  torpid  ;  even  die   chords  of  fenfibility 

loie  their  fine  tone,  and  the  heart  itfelf  grows  cold  and 
inanimate  as  marble.  Keep  the  hands  employed,  and 
the  mind  occupied  in  feme  laudable  purlin  t,  and  a 
fweet  ferenity  will  dtffufe  itfelf  over  the  fcul.  The 
day  pa(fes  without  our  noticing  the  hours,  the  night 
brings  peaceful  and  refrefhing  (lumbers,  and  by  throw* 
ing  the  golden  chain  of  induftry  over  the  wings  of 
pleafure,  we  take  the  little  fleeting  phantom  priioncr, 
and  make  it  our  own  forever." 

Columbia  felt  the  full  force  of  her  mother's  argu- 
ment ;  for,  being  bufied  in  putting  a  few  neceiraiics 
together  for  their  journey,  (he  was  ib  wholly  occupied 
by  the  pleafures  of  anticipation,  that  every  obftacle 
feemed  to  vanifh.  "  Heaven  in  its  mercy  guard  and 
fupport  my  dear  mother,"  laid  the  mentally,  "  and 
for  myfelf  I  have  no  fears." 

The  young  woman,  whofe  name  was  Cicely,  un- 
dertook to  conduct  them  to  the  cottage  of  her  mother. 
For  the  lady  Ifabelle  faid,  as  Sir  James  was  not  at 
home,  (lie  would  herfclf  vi lit  the  lick  lady,  and  admin* 
jfter  fuch  confolation  as  (he  might  find  needful.  The 
lall^ints  of  day  were  lading  in  the  we  ft  em  Iky,  and 
the  moon,  in  full  majeftic  fplendour,  tipped  with  her 
(liver  beams  the  lofty  and  antique  trees  that  furround- 
ed  the  manfion  of  Howard,  when  thefe  two  interefting 
women,  accompanied  by  Cicely,  entered  the  wood 
through  whibb they  were  obliged  to  pals  in  their  way 
to  her  motherS  habitation. 

In  filence  they  purfued  their  way.  Columbia  and 
her  mother  could  cenverfe  but  on  one  fubjeCt,  and  on 
that  one.  prudence  fc  rbade  th<  m  to  fpeak  in  the  prefence 
of  a  third  perfon  ;  and  Cicely,  though  fo  communica- 
tive to  the  daughter,  was  awed  by  the  prefence  of  the 

mother. 

At 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  nj 

At  length  they  reacted  the  cottage  ;  it  was  fmall 
a  ad  mainly  furnilhcd,  but  withal  fo  clean  and  neat, 
that  it  Teemed  the  habitation  of  comfort  and  content. 
A  middle  aged  woman,  decently  clad  in  home-fpun 
ftiiff,  met  them  at  the  door,  and  looking  at  the  ftran- 
gcrs  with  an  ait  of  furprife,  eagerly  afted  for  Sir  James. 
Il'ibelle  did  not  give  her  little  guide  tine  to  reply, 
bat  anfwered  lor  hi  r,  that  Sir  Janus  being  from  home, 
a  d  (he  being  hi-;  particular  friend  and  gueil,  had 
cumc  to  vh't  the  lick  lady,  and  lee  if  an;  thing  could 
be  d<  ne  to  help  her. 

"  Alack  a  day,  my  lady,"  laid  the  w<  man,  "  I  be- 
lieve Ihe  be  pad  help  ;  I  did  not  think  fhe  would  have 
}'-\\  1  till  now  ;  but  walk  into  the  next  room,  1  believe 
fhe  is  quite  fcnfible  yet,  and  feems  to  have  fomethittg 
on  her  mind.  I  do  think  the  poor  Tom1,  would 
die  eafier,  if  the  could  tell  fomc-body  her  tr«  ubles." 

As  the  loquacious  landlady  finiihed  fpeaking,  fhe 
opened  the  door  of  the  adjoining  apartment,  and  Co- 
lumbia, with  trembling  impatience,  approached  the 
bed,  and  foftly  put  back  the  curtain.  The  light, 
which  llood  on  tiie  table  by  the  beflde,  fhed  its  rays 
full  on.  the  face  of  the  invalid,  and  dtttovered  the  fea- 
tures of  Mina.  A  momentary  (lumber  had  lulled  her 
in  forgetfulnefs.  Beiide  her  lay  an  infant,  to  all  ap- 
pearance but  a  few  hours  old. 

"  My  heart  foreboded  this,"  faid  Ifabelle.  Colum- 
bia's eyes  dreamed  as  flic  hung  over  the  pale  form  oi~ 
her  beloved  Mina  ;  fhe  fobbed  aloud,  but  was  unable 
to  fpeak.  The  dying  fufferer  uneloled  her  eyes,  fnc 
f  ;w,  a-.id  inftantly  recollected  her  lady  and  dear  bene* 
faclrefs. 

"  Then  my  prayers  arc  heard,"  faid  (he,  faintly  ; 
"I  (hall  leave  my  child,  the  wretched  offspring  of 
fliamc  and  folly,  to  the  care  of  an  angel." 

"  Oh  !  my  poor  Mina,"  cried  Columbia,  finking  on 
her  knees  by  the  bedfide,  and  endeavouring  to  Rifle 
her  grief.  "  Unfortunate  creature,"  faid  the  lady  Ifa- 
belle, taking  the  cold,  damp  hand  of  her  fervant  ; 
"  feverely  hail  thou  fuffered  tor  thy  deviation  from  the 
path  of  rectitude ;  but  do  not  defpond,   my  child. 

Your 


u6         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Your  prefent  weak  Rate,  and  the  depreffion  naturally- 
attendant  on  your  fituauon,  makes  you  think  yourielf 
near  your  end  ;  but  we  wiM  hope " 

"  Hope!"  faid  Mina,  raiting  her  languid  eyes ;  "  yes, 
I  do  hope  that  my  fufFerings  are  nearly  at  an  end,  and 
that  they  have  in  part  made  atonement  for  my  errors. 
I  did  not,  believe  me.  I  did  not  leave  your  protection 
voluntarily.  I  was  forced  away  and  brought  to  this 
place  ;  I  was  taught  to  believe  that  you  had  left  En- 
gland. I  have  fometimes,  ilnce  my  feclu/ion  litre, 
ieen  the  author  of  my  ruin  ;  but  could  not  learn  from 
him,  that  he  know  aught  concerning  you.  I  was  par- 
ticularly anxious  to  fee  him  to-night;  for  fure  I  am, 
my  dear  lady,  I  fhall  never  again  -\  Lw  the  light  of 
day.  And  I  wifhed  to  have  with  my  own  hands  com- 
mitted hi*  child  to  his  care  ;  but  I  can  with  more, con- 
fidence leave  it  to  your  protection." 

Here  a  hidden  faintnefs  made  her  paufe.  A  few 
drops  admlnikered,  fome  what  revived  her,  and  ihe 
proceeded  : — "  A  few  ftruggles  more,  and  I  fhall  be 
at  peace.  My  heart,  my  heart  is  broken.  Yet  truft 
rae,  it  is  not  my  own  fufTerings,  the  flights  of  the  man 
for  whom  I  facrificed  all,,  or  the  fcorn  of  a  contemn- 
ing world  under  which  I  have  funk.  No  !  it  was  the 
confeioufnefs  of  16ft  innocence  ;  it  was  the  reflection 
that  my  lapfe  from  virtue  had  involved  my  kindeft, 
beft  friends  in  ruin,  which  penetrated  deep  into  my 
foul.  Sleeping  or  waking,  yrou  were  prefent  to  my 
thoughts,  and  I  have  died  a  thoufand  deaths,  in  daily 
anticipating  yours." 

The  lady  Ifabelle  endeavoured  to  foothe  and  com- 
pofe  the  affectionate,  penitent  Mina  ;  aflured  her  that 
what  was  in  her  power  fhe  would  cheerfully  promife 
to  perform  ;  that  fhe  would  look  on  her  child  as  an 
infant  given  to  her  protection  by  the  immediate  agen- 
cy of  Heaven ;  and  though  fhe  mould  think  it  a  duty 
to  endeavour  to  awaken  in  the  breafl  of  Howard  the 
feelings  of  a  father  towards  the  hclplefs  innocent,  yet 
it  would  be  her  care  to  fee  that  his  health  and  morals 
were  in  no  ways  neglected. 

"  Yes, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  nj 

u  Yes,  my  dear  Mina,"  faid  Columbia,  "he  (hall-be 
my  charge.  Come,  compofe  yourfclf ;  endeavour  to 
red.  When  you  are  better,  we  will  nurfe  the  little 
rogue  together,  and  I  warrant  I  fhall  prove  the  better 
nurfe." 

"  Bleffed — bleffed — "  faid  Mina,  grafping  the  hand 
of  Columbia  (which  from  her  firlt.  awaking,  lhe  had 
held  in  her's).  Her  eyes  were  ardently  turned  up- 
ward ;  they  gradually  clofed  ;  her  fingers  relaxed 
their  hold,   and  her  head  funk  upon  the  pillow. 

"  She  is  dropped  afleep,"  laid  Columbia,  "  I  hope 
it  will  refrefh  her."  "  It  will,"  replied  her  mother, 
drawing  her  from  the  bed-lide  ;  lhe  will  awake  relieved 
from  all  her  pain." 

"  Do  you  think  l~o  indeed  !   my  dear  mother." 

"  Yes,  my  child,  molt  almredly  ;  for  in  this  world 
lhe  will  awake-no  more." 

The  feelings  of  fuch  a  heart  as  Columbia's,  on  fuch 
an  occafion,  cannot  be  delcribed.  The  foul  alive  to 
fenfibility,  can  eafily  conceive  them  ;  and  to  the  un- 
feeling, a  repetition  of  her  complaints  and  forrow.s 
would  be  tedious  and  unintercitiug.  She  took  the 
poor  motherlefs  infant  in  her  arms,  and  fitting  down 
in  one  corner  of  the  room,  baptized  it  with   her  tears. 

The  fcene  became  too  painful  for  the  lady  Ilabelle  ; 
and  whilft  the  landlady  and  hei  daughter,  aflifted  by 
a  fervant,  prepared  the  body  of  the  departed  Mina  for 
her  laft  re. ling  place,  lhe  walked  in  a  little  garden  be- 
fore the  door,  leeking,  fr<  m  the  COol  evening  air,  a  relief 
from  that  oppvefiion  on  the  heart,  which  the  recent 
leene  had  eccalioncd. 

The  air  in  a  flight  degree  had  the  defired  effect. 
She  returned  to  the  houfe,  and  approached  tin 
that  led  to  the  apartment  of  death.  The  lifelefs  body 
was  now  rtrctched  upon  the  bed,  on  the  fide  of  which 
fat  Columbia  (till  weeping,  and  clafping  the  infant  to 
her  bofom.  Her  forrow  was  too  facredj  the  lcilon 
was  too  important,  for  her  mother  to  interrupt  her. 
The  found  gf  footlteps  called  the  attention  of  [fitbelle 
frcm  her  daughter,     bhc   turned  to»fe*  from  whence 

thfi 


nS  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

the   found   proceeded,   and  beheld   juft   entering  the 
houfc,  Howard. 

"  The  lady  Ifabelle,"  faid  he,  with  a  lopk  of  afton- 
i.hment,  "  by  what  miracle  do  I  ice  you  here  :  ami 
where  is  my  charming  Columbia  •" 

"  .She  is  here  alio,"  replied  Ifabelle,,  villi  a  folcrur. 
voice.      "  Follow  nae  ;   I  will  lead  you  to  her." 

They  entered  the   apartment   together.      Columbia 
railed  not  her  eyes,     The  heart  of  lb  .ward  be.it  v 
as,  leading  him  toward  the  bed,  Ifabelle  drew  the 
ering  from  the  death-ban;}  red  face  of  Mina,  and  | 
fig  to  her,    laid   emphatically,    "  Behold  the  works  ct" 
thy  hands,  Howard  !      Here  contemplate  the  fruits  of 
feduclion!" 

At  tlie  name  of  Howard,  Columbia  darted  ;  lhe 
read  the  emotions  of  his  ioul  in  his  exprcflive  c( 
nance.  Riling  from  her  feat,  (he  prefented  die  infant 
to  him,  and  laying  her  right  hand  on  his  aim,  catted 
h:s  audition  iiom  the  pale  corfe  of  her  lamented  fer- 
rant.  "Gc.-e  not  there,  Howard,"  laid  ihe  ;  •'  the 
injuries  of  the  rnqther  are  pail  rcdrefs  ;  but  behold 
your  child,  m.:'  o  rep  traiion  here  !" 

Howard,. the  diouglulefs,  diffipated  How- 

ard was  llrttck  to  the  heart.  He  faw  the  once  lovely, 
blooming,  cheerful  Mina,  an  inanimate  mafs.  Thofe 
fparkling  eyes,  that  firft  awakened  the  licentious  pai- 
lion,  were  clofcd  in  death  ;  that  heart,  that  had  but 
too  much  fallibility,  too  much  iir.ccrity  lor  its  own 
peace,  was  cold  and  full.  His  feduclive  powers  had; 
hurried  an  amiable  creature  out  of  the  woild,  and  in- 
troduced into  it  a  helplefs  being,  win  ,  fhould  he  live, 
through  life  would  bhdh  for  the  frailty  of  his  mother, 
and  execrate  the  licentioui'neis  of  his  father.  He  took 
fant  from  the  arms  oi:  Columbia,  preffed  the 
hand  which  fhe  had  laid  on  his  arm,  attempted  to 
fpeak,  but  his  \oice  died  away  in  inarticulate  founds. 
The  bitter  tears  or  felf-acoufation  ruflied  down  his 
cheeks  ;  he  returned  the  child  to  her  ;  and  throwing 
himleif  beli.ie  the  lifeiefs  Mina,  gave  a  k  ofe  to  the  an- 
guilh  of  his  heait. 

Ifabell* 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  119 

rfabellc  led  her  daughter  from  the  room  ;  but  du- 
ring the  whole  night  Howard  never  left  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  fmall  was  the  portion  of  repofe  which  any 
of  the  inhabitants  ot  the  cottage  tafted. 

By  the  dawn  of  day,  lfabelle  wiftied  to  begin  her 
journey  towards  London.  She  lent  in  a  requeft  to 
Howard,  that  he  would  grant  her  a  few  moments  au- 
dience. He  complied.  When  he  entered  the  apart- 
ment, (he  thus  addrefled  him.  "  I  fent  for  you  not, 
Sir  James,  to  irritate  your  fenfibility  by  unfeafonablc 
reproaches,  nor  to  inquire  what  injury  I  had  ever  done 
you,  that  you  have  thus  wantonly  heaped  mifery  on 
me  and  mine.  I  wiih  but  to  tell  you,  that  I  am  fully 
fenfible  how  unjuilly  and  on  what  falfe  pretences 
you  have  detained  me  here  ;  and  that,  knowing  my- 
ielf  perfectly  free,  and  fafe  in  the  protection  of  my 
qxieen,  and  the  laws  of  my  country,  I  may  travel 
without  moleMation  whitherfoever  I  pleafe.  I  (hall 
immediately  proceed  towards  London.  I  alfo  w'(h 
to  inform  you,  that  the  poor  departed  victim,  in  her 
dying  moments,  recommended  her  infant  to  my  care, 
and  died  in  the  full  confidence  of  my  protection  ar.d 
tendernels  being  extended  towards  it  during  its  yeais 
,of  helplels  infancy.  1  am  fenfihk-  of  your  prior  right  ; 
the  right  of  nature  is  incontrovertible  ;  and  I  have 
(till  ib  good  an  opinion  of  your  heart  (  'when  left  to 
the  dictates  of  reafon  and  religion)  as  to  think  you 
will  difcharge  the  duty  of  a  parent  wi,h  confck 
ftrictnefs.  "But  I  have  to  requeft,  you  wiil  fufl 
(to  be  informed  where  the  child  may  be  placed,  ( 
cafe  of  indifpofition,  I  may  have  it  in  my  power  io 
vift  and  fee  that  !v  is  properly  nuried  and  attended." 

Howard  was  for  a  moment  filerit.  His  proud  fpin't 
was  humbled  to  the  dull.  But  Howard,  when  con- 
vinced df  an  error,  knew  how  to  make  atonement  with- 
out defcending  from  the  dignity  of  man. 

"Noble  lady,"  faid  he,  "1  have  been  highly  culpa- 
ble.    My  heart  tells  me  at  this   moment,    I   In- 
feited  all  right  to  the  protecting  power  of  an  Olftnipd- 
unt,  by  abufing  his  good  gifts,  and  dehafmg  the  110- 
blefi  work  of  his  hands.     But  I  am  not   fo  far  loft  *.o 

virtue-. 


120         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

.•virtue,  as  Co  perfift  in  error  again  ft  die  conviction  of 
reafon.  I  have  injured  you,  lady  Arundel,  I  have 
wounded  the  heart  of  your  lovely  daughter,  by  a  falie 
tale  of  the  death  of  her  lover  ;  but,  thank  Heaven,  re- 
paration here  is  not  beyond  my  power.  My  fervants 
J  hall  attend  you  ;  my  horfes  are  at  your  command  ; 
depart  when  you  pleaie.  You  lhall  have  fafe  conduct 
.to  the  court  of  the  royal  Elizabeth,  where  you  will 
meet  Sir  Egbert  Gorges,  rich  in  every  virtue  as  well 
as  in  the  favour  of  his  iovercign.  Your  requeft  in  re- 
gard to  the  haplefs  offspring  of  indiicretion,  lhall  glad- 
ly be  complied  with  ;  his  infant  wants  I  will  take  care 
lhall  be  amply  fuppiied  ;  I  will  endeavour,  by  tendcr- 
nefis  toward  him,  to  atone  for  the  injuries  1  have  douc 
Jiis  mother.  But  your  friendfhip  and  attention,  in  di- 
recting my  cares  to  a  proper  channel,  will  be  a  valua- 
ble acquilition  to  him,  and  an  act  of  condcfcenftoi)  to- 
war  1  rhe..  I  will  fee  the  loft  Mina  repofe  on. her  laft 
bed,  and  then  conduct  my  child  and  his  nurfe  to  Lon- 
don, where,  making  ample  provision  for  his  fupport 
through  life,  1  will  leave  him  to  your  protection,  and 
feek,  in  the  claih  of  arms  and  the  purfuit  (  f  glory,  to 
lofe  the  remembrance  of  circumftances  which  tend  at 
.once  to  my  diihonour  and  diiquiet.*' 

Early  in  the  day,  Iiabelle  and  her  daughter  ccm- 
menced  their  journey  toward  the  metropolis.  Though 
the  fpirits  of  Columbia  had  received  a  fevere  Ihock 
from  the  death  of  her  favourite  Mina,  yet  the  bright 
p#bfpects  that  opened  to  her,  in  her  recovered  liberty 
and  the  certainty  of  Sir  Egbert's  life  and  fafety,  contrib- 
uted in  a  great  degree  to  difhpate  her  melancholy  ;  and 
•as  they  drew  near  the  conclusion  of  their  journey,  her 
heart  vibrated  with  the  moft  pleafurablc  fenfations. 
'  A  fudden  thunder  mower,  which  obliged  them  to 
.ftop  when  within  ft  few  hours  ride  of  London,  imped- 
ed their  journey,  and  they  were  ncceffitated -unwilling- 
ly to  fleep  another  night  on  the  read.  After  an  early 
,rcpa!l,  they  retired  to  their  apartment,  when  juft  as 
Columbia  was  going  into  bed,  (he  milled  her  ring  from 
off  her  finger.  "  Oh  !  madam,"  faid  fhe,  "  1  have 
loftjny  ring  ;  and  yet  I  am  fare  I  law  it  on  my  fin- 
ger 


TALES    «f    OLD    TIMES.  121 

ger  juft  before  we  went  to  fupper."  Every  part  of 
the  bed-chamber  was  now  fearcheJ,  every  article  of 
her  attire  carefully  lhaken,  her  pockets  turned  infide 
out,  but  all  in  vain. 

"  Perhaps,"  faid  Ifabelle,  "  you  may  have  dropped 
it  in  the  room  below."  The  hoftefs  was  fummoned, 
and  requefted  to  look  for  it,  whilft  Columbia,  too 
anxious  to  think  of  refting,  had  (almoft  unknown  to 
herfelf)  again  put  on  her  clothes.  The  hoftefs  return- 
ed. "  I  have  been  very  fortunate,"  laid  fhe  ;  "  a  gen- 
tleman who  has  been  feeking  game  in  the  neighbour- 
ing fore  ft,  being  overtaken  by  night  fooner  than  he 
expecled,  entered  the  houfe  juft  as  you  came  up  ftair.% 
and  being  (hewn  into  the  apartment  you  had  left,  has 
found  the  ring,  and  here  it  is." 

Columbia  eagerly  extended  her  hand  to  receive  it  ; 
but  overcome  with  joy  and  aftonifhment,  Ihc  gave  a 
fudden  exclamation  of  pleafure,  and  fpringing  toward 
the  door,  was  infb.ntly  folded  in  the  arms  of  Sir  Eg- 
bert Gorges. 

It  was  he,  who  with  Rawlins  had  been  in  purfiut  of 
game  in  the  adjacent  woods.  Entering  the  apart- 
ment Columbia  had  juft  left,  he  faw  fbmething  glitter 
on  the  floor,  and  (looping,  picked  up  the  identical 
ring  which  he  had  placed  on  her  finger  at  parting. 
His  furprife  was  execftive  ;  he  had  heard  that  the  lady 
Ifabelle  and  her  daughter  had  been  in  the  power  of 
Mary,  and  it  was  univerfally  believed  they  had, 
through  Howard's  means,  efcaped  ;  that  they  were 
at  that  moment  under  the  fame  roof  with  him,  he  had 
'  not  the  moil  diftant  idea  ;  but  the  perfon  who  dropped 
the  ring  might  probably  give  him  fome  information 
concerning  her.  He  was  gazing  at  it,  loft  in  conjec- 
ture, his  bofbm  throbbing  with  anxiety  to  learn  her 
fate,  when  the  hoftefs  entered  the  room. 

'«  I  beg  pardon,"  faid  fhe,  "  but  1  come  to  took  for 
a  ring  which  a  lady  thinks  (lie  has  dropped  here  ;  I 
hope  if  you  have  fcen  it,  gentlemen,  you  will  reftorc 
it ;  lor  indeed  the  poor  young  lady  feems  in  a  fad  ta- 
king about  it." 

"A  young  lady  ?"  faid  Sir  Egbert. 

M  « Aye, 


in        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  Aye,  a  young  lady,"  replied  our  loquacious  hoft- 
efs ;  "  and  as  fweet  a  young  lady  as  eye  ever  looked 
oiu  I  warrant  it  is  fome  love  token.  Oh  !  if  you 
had  hut  fecn  her  earneflnefs,  when  fhe  entreated  me 
to  come  and  look  for  it." 

"  I  have  found  the  ring,"  faid  Sir  Egbert,  his  heart 
throbbing  fo  violently  as  to  render  refpiration  diffi- 
cult ;  "  here,  take  it  to  the  young  lady,  and  as  you 
give  it  her,  fuffer  me  to  fee  her  ;  leave  the  door  partly 
open  as  you  go  in."  A  golden  argument,  with  which 
Sir  Egbert  enforced  his  requeft,  prevented  objections, 
and  taking  the  plain  gold  ring  from  his  own  finger, 
he  fent  it  to  Columbia. 

It  may  eafily  be  fuppofed,  that  fo  happy,  fo  unex- 
pected a  meeting,  baniJhed  llcep  effectually  from  the 
eyes  of  all.  Ifabelle  and  her  daughter  returned  to  the 
parlour,  where  inquiry,  recital,  and  unreferved  confi- 
dence on  both  fides,  occupied  the  remainder  of  the 
night.  They  learnt  that  young  Dudley  was  fafe  in 
the  protection  of  Elizabeth,  who  had  reftored  to  him 
the  title  and  eltates  of  his  father,  and  promifed  to  be 
his  friend  and  patronefs. 

Nor  was  Mina  forgot ;  Rawlins  fei/cd  the  firft  paufe 
in  tl^eir  interefting  convcrfation  to  inquire  after  the  ob- 
ject of  his  fincere  affection. 

Ifabelle  hefitated ;  fhe  read  his  tendernefs  in  the 
emotions  of  his  countenance.  At  length  the  fata] 
truth  was  difclofed,  and  the  piece  of  filyer  which  Co- 
lumbia had  taken  from  around  her  neck  after  her  de- 
ceafe,  was  reflored  to  him. 

He  took  it ;  he  gazed  on  it  in  filence.  His  manly 
features  were  tinged  with  the  pale  hue  of  death.  He 
raifed  his  eyes  to  the  face  of  Columbia.  The  iook 
was  expretfive  ;  it  feemed  to  fay,  "  You  loved  her  la- 
dy ;  do  you  not  lament  her  !"  Columbia  breathed 
a  figh  of  commiferation.  His  heartflrings,  which 
were  drawn  almoft  to  breaking,  were  foftened  by  its 
balmy  influence.  He  palled  his  hand  acrofs  hi*  eyes 
to  diffipate  the  tear,  the  mournful  cataflrophe  of"  his 
beloved  Mina  had  extorted,  and  putting  the  piece  of 
filver  into  his  hoibm,  liaftily  left  the  apartment. 

The 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         123 

The  ruddy  morn  peeped  through  the  eaftern  gates, 
before  this  happy  trio  thought  of  ieparating.  Ifabelle 
and  Columbia  at  length  retired  to  their  chamber  ;  but 
Morpheus  was  flown  beyond  recall.  Unfeeling  deity  ! 
he  makes  his  longeft  vilits  to  the  ignorant  and  infenfi- 
ble.  The  peafant,  whillt  he  labours  amongft  the  corn 
he  fows,  (trews  the  fomnific  poppy  ;  and  in  return,  the 
leaden-winged  power  collects  its  fweets,  and  iheds  them 
on  his  pillow.  From  the  couch  bedewed  with  tears 
he  takes  his  flight,  and  when  ecftatic  joy  has  Itrung 
each  nerve,  and  the  exhilarated  fpirits  mount  toward 
heaven,  he  (lands  aloof  and  (hakes  his  heavy  v 
nor  for  one  moment  will  impede  the  tide  o(  blifs, 
though  coiirted  ea.neftly  by  weary  nature,  who  lan- 
giiiflies  for  red  from  each  extreme,  whether  of  grief  or 
pleafure. 

Pieleutcd    at    tiie    court    of  Elizabeth.,    Columbia 
Ihone   conspicuous.     Her   beauty  (truck  the 
eye  ;  her  affability,  good  fenfe    and  virtue  capt  vated 
the   heart.     Her  delighted,  happy  mother   bel 
her  hand  on  Sir  Egbert   Gorges  with   uni'cigrjcd  fatif- 
facihm  5  and  remaining  in   the   capital   till   Colu 
was  mother  to   a  ion   chriltencd    Ferdinando,   and    '! 
J  Elizabeth,   (he  retired  to  Auftenbury 
Calfle. 

Her  old  fervant  Cora  was  no  more.  Matthias 
in  his  fecond  childhood  ;  but  he  experienced  all  the 
pleafure  of  which  human  nature  in  its  laft  ilagc  is  ca- 
pable, in  the  return  of  his  revered  lady.  The  autumn 
following,  he  flept  in  peace  ;  and  before  the  enfuing 
fpring  had  called  forth  the  primroi'c,  or  decked  the 
almond  tiee  in  blufhing  l'weets,  the  lady  ftabelle,  the 
defcenda  .  of  the  great  Columbus,  the  daughter  of  the 
Peruvian  princeis  Orrabeila,  gently  declined  into  the 
vale  of  years,  and  refted  in  the  houic  appointed  for 
all  H\ 

Columbia  en  this  occaiion  vifited  the  fcene  of  her 
juvenile  pleafuies.  Her  feelings  on  the  departure  of 
her  mother  were  indcicribable.  Her  tears  again  con- 
ed 'he  memory  of  the  unfortunate  Mina  ;  and 
having  given  orders  that  the  court  yard",  the  liibert 
walkr  the  tower  and  eaftern  wing  of  the  Caftle  flic  uld 

be 


i24         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

be  kept  in    conftant   repair,   flic   returned   to  London, 
■  fhe  c(  ntinued  foi  many  years  to  mine  eminently 
m  tii.  chara  wife,  mother,  and  miftrefs  of  a 

ily.        » 
She  died  in    I  '•  year  of  her  age,  afier  hav- 

ing given  birth  to  five  children  ;  Ferdinando,  heir  to 
his  father's  title  and  eihite  ;  Elizabeth,  who  was  mar- 
ried to  lord  1  '  Vialcy  ;  Jane,  who  died  in  her 
Edward,  who,  embracing  die  fervicc  of  his 
country  in  :.  nautical  profeffion,  and  in  the  year  1 5S 5 
embarking  with  the  brave  and  enterprizing  Sir  Fran- 
cis Prake,  periihed  in  the  attack  againft  St.  Domingo  ; 
•wnd  Beatina,  who  married  into  the  ancient  and  re- 
fpectabie  family  of  the  Penns. 

Sir  Egbert  Gorges  himfelf  lived  to  a  good  old  age  j 
and  dying,  bequeathed  his  title  and  eftates  to  a  Jon, 
who  thought  hereditary  honour  of  Ifctle  value  to  die 
pcflcfTor,  unlefs  fiipported  by  humanity,  juflice  and 
mercy. 

Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges  regarded  the  honour  of  an- 
f  eftry  in  no  other  light  than  as  a  ftimulus  to  praife- 
worthy  actions.  "My  father,"  faid  he,  "  was  belov- 
c:i  and  citeemed  for  his  virtue,  honour  and  integrity  ; 
I  will  not  fully  the  name  I  bear,  by  any  action  derog- 
atory to  the  character  of  a  MAN  and  a  CHRIS- 
TIAN." 

Sir  Ferdmando  Gorges  was  a  gentleman  cf  the  old 
world  ;  mould  the  character  appear  unnatural  to  any 
of  the  prefent  time,  let  them  remember  that  they  are 
reading  a  "  talc  of  old  times,"  and  exculpate  the  au- 
thor from  the  charge  of  romance  and  improbability. 
A  certain  modern  author,  a  noble  author  too,  (if 
inheriting  a  title  continues  nobility)  has  been  at  infi- 
nite trouble  to  explain  the  requiiites  neceflary  to  form 
the  character  of  a  fine  gentleman  ;  unfortunately,  he 
forgot  humanity,  truth  and  religion.  Sir  Ferdinando 
Crorges  imagined,  that  to  love  and  worfhip  his  Crea- 
tor, to  fcorn  to  aiTert  a  falfehood,  and  to  do  as  he 
would  be  done  by  in  the  mod.  minute  particular,  was 
to  deferve   the    dntinguiihed   rank   he  inherited  from 

his 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  125 

his  anceftors ;  and  it  is  a  moral  certainty,  that  Sir 
Ferdinando  was  perfectly  right  in  his  ideas  of  the  cha- 
racter of  a  real  gefttleman. 

.■<..«■.<■•« «^-Y^f>  > ■>  >  > 

CHAP.       XV. 
A  Century  nuhen  f>jjr  is  rut  as  a   'Moment. 

SIR   Ferdinando  Gorges  toojc  but  a  fni.il!   (hare  ;:i 
the  active  fccn.es  of  li  1  the  unfortunate  E;trl 

ofEflox,  favourite  to  Eli;  beth,  incurred  the  confure 
of  his  fovereign  by  neglecting  her  <  Is,  and  hur- 

ried by  the  impetuoiity  of  1  J   the 

populace  (e  :r  for  novelty)    to  arm   in  his  fup- 

port  and  defence,  which  called  forth  the  aid  o{  the  lo)  al 
lubjeel  in  b  le  Queen's  d  r.     It  was 

then    Sir  i  .  lo   darted   into  notice;  he., 

the   prcrogativ     oi    royalty,  -ced  the  ccm- 

mands  of  his  l'<    Deign,   not   as  the  will   of 
tyrant,   bul  of  a    well-regulated    |  ■■ 

meat,  neccflar)  to  be  in;  ir  the  peace,  in 

and  fecurity  oi  millions  who  lived  under  their  pro- 
tection. 

He  was  a  man  remarkable  I 
the  main 

wifh  of  his  he;  rt,    e\  .■;    undertaking    in  whicl  < 

"te  the  g  ncral  v 

About  the  ;  :ar  . 
f<  rm  d  th  m  elves  into  a  company   f  r   plai 
fettling  a   col<  sw  England,  1 

Sir  Ferdinando  was  appointed 
of  the  directors,  and  expended 
nal  inheritance  in   promoting  the    deli  jn.     1 
of  his  great  and  enterprising  anceftoi  teemed  to  revive 
in  hint,  and  notliing  but  his  advai  ced  age  prevented 
him  from  croffing  the  Atlantic  himTclf,  in  fean 
difcoveries  that  might  enrich  or  enlighten  the  1 
generation. 

M  2  Si* 


126         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

/ 
Sir  Ferdtrtando  had  married,  at  an  early  age,  a 
lid>-  of  family  and  fortune  ;  but  (he  lived  only  to  give 
birth  to  a  daughter  ;  and  fcir  Ferdinando  was  lb  firmly 
attached  to  her  whillt  living,  and  (0  Gncejely  regretted 
her  untimely  departure,  that  he  thought  no  other 
woman  could  fupply  her  place.  His  filter  Elizabeth 
was  nearly  at  the  lame  period  left  a  widow,  with  only 
cue  child,  a  boy  about  five  years  old.  To  whom 
could  Sir  Ferdinando  apply  to  take  the  charge  of  his 
infant  daughter,  fo  well  as  to  lady  Dudley  ?  And  where 
could  the  young,  the  lovely  widow  find  berfelffo  fafe, 
fo  fecure  from  reproach,  as  in  the  family  and  undez 
the  protection  of  her  brother  ? 

As  the  children  grew  up,  Henry  regarded  his  little 
coufin  Ifabelle  with  more  than  fraternal  affection  ;  but 
the  tenets  of  the  reformed  religion  forbidding  a  union 
between  two  perfons  fo  nearly  related  by  the  tics  of 
blood,  neither  Sir  Ferdinando  nor  lady  Dudley  en- 
couraged an  affection,  which  in  their  ideas  was  a  crime  ; 
and  with  a  defign  to  prevent  its  progrefs,  at  the  age 
of  nineteen,  Henry  was  fent  to  travel,  ami  finifh  his 
education  by  gaining  a  competent  knowledge  ol  fo- 
reign courts  and  manners. 

Though  Ifabelle  Gorges,  at  the  departure  of  her 
coufin  for  the  continent,  was  fcarcely  fourteen  years 
old,  vet  Henry  was  fully  Unable   of  the  nature  of  the 

lotions  he  felt  in  her  favour  ;  whilft  the,  the  ] 
child  of  fimplicity,  had  no  idea  but  that  (he  might 
love  him  beyond  all  i  ther  tcrreftrial  being*,  and  c(  n- 
fefs  it  with  impunity.  She  hung  upon  his  neck  at 
taking  leave,  befought  him  not  to  f<  rget  her,  and 
(pent  the  whole  day  in  tear.  Every  eniuing  day 
feemed  itiil  to  make  his  ahlencc  more  intolerable. 
She  thought  of  him  incefiantly,  fpoke  of  him  often, 
|  when  a  letter  arrived,  would  hang  ever  her  fath- 
er's (boulder  with  delighted  attention  whilft  he  read 
th.  conti 

Henry  Dudley  was  a  man  exactly  calculated  to  do 

honour  to  the  noble  race  from  whence  he  fprang  ;   die 

letters  of  his  governor  to  his  mother   were   filled  with 

i :    praifes.     To  a  brave,  undaunted  fpirit  he  united  a 

*  foal 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  127 

foul  alive  to  all  the  finer  feelings  of  humanity.  With 
an  ardent  third  for  knowledge,  he  pollened  an  under- 
Handing  that  directed  his  lhtdics  and  refearches  to  the 
mod  ufeful,  Laudable  objects  ;  from  the  gentleneis  of 
his  nature  liable  to  error,  but  open  to  conviction,  and 
ever  ready  to  make  atonement. 

"  He  has  but  one  fault,"  faid  his  governor  in  one  of 
his  letters,  "  and  that  is  an  impetuoiity  of  difpontion 
in  purfuit  of  any  favourite  obje*5>  ;  his  infections 
a-e  ardent  in  ihc  extreme,  add  bis  paffipos,  or  rather 
his  excefliv-3  ien'ibi  ky,  hurry  hba  often  beyond  the 
bounds  of  reafon  and  difcretion.  .Cut  this  error  is  like 
a  ipot  on  the  ft:.',  which  may  be  discernible  whilft 
his  beams  aye  weakened  by  the  mi. Is  ot"  the  morning, 
but  when  he  fhines  in  full  meridian  fplendouf  will 
become   imperceptible." 

"  Dear,  beloved  Henry  !*'  exclaimed  Ifabelle,  as  fhe 
li.lcn.d  to  her  ..  I  fhe  read  the  paflage.     "  Oh! 

way  is  hei  r  I     I  am  fure  though,  it    he 

wore  m  ■',    I  could  not   love  him  better  than  I 

Jo  now  5    md  you,  my  cl  •      inuedj 

throwing  her  arms  round  the  neck  of  lady  Dudley, 
"  1  think  1  could  not  love  you  more  than  I  do  now, 
but  yet  I  ib\:\!  like  to  call  you  mother.  'I  never 
knew  my  own  have  amply  fiipplied  her 

place.     Letm<  her,dear!   dear!   mother. 

Oh  !   there   is  fbmething  ;htful   in    die   word, 

that  my  heart  -  Lranfports  as   I 

utter  it.  Wha!  a  happy  girl  1  Ihould  be  if  1  could 
fay,  My  father,  my  m     I  tr  Henry." 

The  lad  J  that  the  intu 

Ifabelle  was  equal  to  her  tendernefs,  ;  ..  i  that  in  wiih- 
ing  to  call  her  mother,  flie  meant  no  m<  re,  than  that 
by  her  being  i"o,  Henry  won"  brother. 

Henry  continued  his  travels  till  he  had  readied  his 
twenty-third  year  ;  it  was  then  thought  neceflary  to 
call  him  home  ;  and  as  in  his  letters  he  had  n 
mentioned  Ifabelle  only  as  a  relation,  bir  Ferdinando 
hoped  abfence,  and  a  variety  of  fcenes,  had  totally 
eradicated  the  youthful  predilection  he  had  cone 

in 


i23-       REUBEN    an-d    RACHEL;  or, 

in  her  favour.  But  in  this  he  was  niillaken  ;  the  paf- 
which  began  in  childhood  had  increafed  with  his 
years;  and  though  during  his  travels  various  other 
purfuits  had  contributed  to  keep  it  dormant,  it  Hill  re- 
mained in  his  heart,  and  waited  only  for  a  re-union 
with  Ifabclle,  to  blaze  anew  with  more  than  its  former 
ardency. 

During  Ms  refidence  at  the  court  of  France,  Henry 
Dudley  formed  an  acquaintance- with  Howard  Fit/.- 
Howard,  grandfon  to  thd  unfortunate  Mina. 

•Sir  James  Howard  had  confeicniioufly  performed 
his  prom'ie,  in  providing  fplendidly  for  the  educatii  l 
of  his  fon,  whom  he  had  chriftened  James  Fitz-How. 
ard  ;  but  aa  he  left  him  in  charge  with  an  ccclcilaltic 
of  the  Romifli  religion,  in  order  to  his  Icing  brought 
up  in  that  faith,  the  lady  Arundel  could  dv)  no  more 
than  fometimes  vilit  him  during  his  infancy.  His 
father  died  abroad    befoi  fifteen.      Leaving 

him  a  very  large  (hare  of  his  eftates,  foon  after  this 
evearit  his  governor  removed  him  to  Paris  ;  and  from 
that  period,  the  family  of  Sir  Egbert  Gorges  were  to- 
tally unacquainted  with  his  welfare  01  purliiits. 

The  prieft  to  vhofe  care  he  had  been  entrufted, 
was  a  man  of  Uriel  probit)  :  he  paid  the  utmoft  attention 
to  his  education,  and,  uniting  the  friend  and  compan- 
ion with  the  inuructor,  made  him  love  virtue  for  its 
own  fake  ;  for,  beholding  its  effects  in  the  convcrfa- 
tion  and  manners  of  his  rcfpe&ed  tutor,  he  grew  em- 
ulous to  cepv  what  appeared  fo  amiable.  His  father 
had  been  well-known  to  fome  of  the  moll  noble  iami- 
lies  in  France,  and  Fitz-Howard,  at  an  early  age, 
found  himfelf  in  a  very  elevated  circle,  carefled  and 
esteemed  by  all.  He  married  the  daughter  of  a  rich 
farmer- general,  and  Howard  Fitz-Howard  was.  the 
only  furviving  fruit  of  the  union. 

This  young  man  was  a  character  compofed  of  con- 
trarieties, at  once  verfatile  as  the  wind,  and  boiileroua 
as  the  waves.  With  fcarcely  a  trait  of  his  father's 
virtues,  he  inherited  the  vices  of  his  grandfather,  with 
rdl  that  imbecility  of  mind,  that  hcedlefs  credulity, 
which  had  been  the  cauil  of  the  ruin  of  his  grand- 
mother. 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  129 

mother.  Eager  in  the  purfuit  of  pleasure*  a  pailion- 
ate  admirer  of  female  beauty,  and  m  uler  of  an  afflu- 
ent fortune,  uncontrolled  by  any,  he  lavifhed  it  with  a 
'prof tile  hand  on  tliofe  who  fl  itteved  his  follies,  carelefs 
whether  they  were  deferving  favour  or  contempt. 

It  may  be  thought  ftrange,  that  a  young  man  Vke 
Henry  Dudley  could  form  an  intimacy  with  Inch  a 
character,  i  ■•  uth  is  ever  irhfufpe&ing,  and  the 
generous  natnre  of  Dudley  could  no:  imagine  the 
gaiety  and  vivacity  of  Fitz- Howard  was  almoft  the 
only  recommendation  he  polTe 

At  the  time  Henry  was  recalled  home,  Fitz-How- 
ard  expreffed  a  wifh  to  accompany  him  to  England. 
Madame  Fitz-Howard  had  never,  from  his  infancy, 
ventured  to  contradict  any  wifh  of  her  darling  ;  and, 
unwilling  as  (lie  was  to  part  with  him,  fiie  at  kngth 
confented  to  his  going,  on  condition  that  the  vifit  was 
limited  to  fix  months.  Accordingly  the  two  friends, 
attended  by  their  refpective  governors,  arrived  in  En- 
gland about  the  middle  of  November,  and.  with  all 
the  fpecd.  the  mode  of  travelling  then  in  ufe  would 
allow,  proceeded  immediately  to  London.  The  lad 
rays  cf  daylight  glimmered  in  the  weft  as  they  crofled 
the  Thames,  and  before  they  reached  the  manfion  of 
Sir  Ferdihando  Gorges,  the  family  were  quietly  fettled 
to  the  employments  of  the  evening. 

Sir  Ferdinando  was  reading  to  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter, who  were  employed  in  embroidering  a  drefs,  in 
v.  hich  Ifabelle  was  to  be  prefented  at  the  Court  of 
James  the  Firft,  who  now  filled  the  throne  of  the  de- 
ccaied  Elizabeth;  uniting,  by  his  accellion  to  the 
Britifh.  crown,  the  two  kingdoms  of  England  and  Scot- 
laud  in  one.  (This  monarch  was  ion  to  the  unfortu- 
nate Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  who  was  beheaded  at 
Fotheringay  Caltle  during  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, 
after  having  been  detained  stprifoner  there  upwards  cf 
fifteen  years.) 

Ifabelle  Gorges  was  now  eighteen.  Her  features 
were  regular,  bat  not  at  firfl  view  Itrikinglyhandfome. 
The  radiance  of  her  mild  blue  eyes  did  not  dart  at 
once  upon  the  heart,   taking  the  aftonifried  fenfes 

tb'e  :. 


.i;n  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  oft, 

tive;  but  through  the  foftening  fnade  of  long,  dark, 
filken  lalhcs,  fti  le  imperceptibly  on  the  foul,  and  made 
it  all  her  own.  Her  (lature  was  above  the  middle 
fi/e,  yet  not  io  tall  as  to  render  her  perfon  mafculine. 
Her  limb?  wen  round,  and  finely  proportioned.  A 
chall.  dignity,  tempered  by  the  moil  winning  foftnefs, 
informed  her  manners,  and  rendered  her  irrelillibly 
ch;    ming. 

It  mult  be  remembered,  that  Dudley  had  not  feen 
her  tor  above  four  years.  Imagine,  then,  what  mult 
be  his  feelings,  when  he  faw  the  lively,  affectionate 
girl,  transformed  into  the  elegant,    dignified  woman  ! 

Ifabelle  had  been  hourly  expecting  her  coufin,  and 
was  too  much  occupied  in  anticipating  the  pleafures 
of  their  meeting,  to  be  very  attentive  to  her  father's 
reading  ;  nay,  even  the  work  in  which  fhe  was  en- 
gaged, though  it  continued  to  employ  her  fingers,  did 
not  for  a  moment  occupy  her  thoughts.  Every  uoifc 
in  the  court  yard,  every  quick  itep  attending  the  Hairs, 
made  her  heart  beat  quick,  and  her  eyes  would  glance 
eagerly  toward  the  door. 

A  confufed  murmur  in  the  great  hall  had  made  Sir 
Fcrdinando  paufc.  "  He  is  come,"  laid  Ilabellc*,.  drop- 
ping her  work  and  Halting  from  her  feutv  The  door 
opened,  and  Dudley  was  in  a  moment  at  the  feet  of 
his  mother.  Releafed  from  the  maternal  embrace, 
he  turned  toward  his  lovely  coufin,  and  received  a 
welcome,  which  filled  the  breafl  of  Fit/.-Howard  with 
envy.  Recovered  from  the  momentary  delirium  that 
ever  pervades  the  toe  fenfiblc  fyftem  upon  a  re-union 
with  beloved  friends.  Dudley  prcfented  his  new  friend, 
who  was  received  with  cordiality,  and  immediately 
invited  to  take  an  apartment  in  the  houie  of  Sir  Fcr- 
dinando, during  his  reiidence  in  London. 

A  very  few  days  ferved  to  convince  the  father  of 
L'abeile,  that  ihe  abiencc  Henry  had  been  obliged  to 
fubmit  to,  from  his  coufin,  had  acted  in  the  fame  man- 
ner as  a  mull  quantity  of  water  docs  when  thrown 
on  a  fierce  t;  v,  gave  a  momentary  damp  to  its  pro- 
gress, only  that  it  might  burlt  forth  with  double  vio- 
lence, 


TALES    <sv    OLD    TIMES,  *3i 

lence,  deitroying  every  object  that  attempted  to  oppofe 
its  fury. 

Ifabelle,  modeft,  timid,  and  tremblingly  alive  to 
feel  the  fmallefl:  infringement  on  the  delicacy  of  her 
lex,  was  yet  fufceptible  of  a  pure.,  ardent  paflion  for 
her  coufm.  Fitz-Howard,  an  inmate  in  their  family, 
read  the  workings  in  the  minds  of  all ;  for  each  ftrove 
to  hide  from  the  other  their  real  fentimcnts.  The  lady 
Dudley,  and  her  brother  Sir  Fcrdinando,  faw  widi 
concern  the  paflion  which  con  fumed  their  children  ; 
but  they  endeavoured  to  conceal  that  knowledge  even 
from  each  other,  ftill  labouring,  by  various  (themes, 
to  divert  the  attention  of  Ifabelle  and  Henry  different 
ways. 

Henry,  when  converting  with  Fitz-Howard,  would 
fpeak  with  rapturous  eloquence  in  praii'e  oi  his  couiin  ; 
but  if  his  friend  at  any  Vme  accufcd  him  of  being  too 
partial,  he  would  fay,  **  Is  it  not  natural  for  brothers 
to  be  partial  to  their  fitters  ?"  "  Surely,"  replied 
Fitz  Howard,  "  but  do  you  love  Ifabelle  Gorges  no 
more  than  you  would  love  a  filler  :"  "  No  more,  on 
my  honour,"  Dudley  would  reply,  and  immediately 
change  the  converfation. 

Lady  Dudley,  thinking  to  fathom  the  fentiments  of 
Ifabelle  in  regard  to  her  ftm,  would  fpeak  of  him  in 
her  prefence.  At  the  fmallefl:  encomium  bellowed  on 
Henry  by  his  mother,  the  eyes  of  Ifabelle  would  beam 
with  pleafure  ;  a  brighter  glow  would  ornament  her 
cheeks  ;  and  her  coral  lips,  half  unclofcd  by  the 
fmile  of  innate  fatisfaction,  difplaying  her  pearly  teeth, 
would  give  that  chafte  animation  to  her  whole  counte- 
nance, as  rendered  it  fcarcely  a  degree  below  angelic, 
When  on  the  contrary,  ihould  ihe  hear  a  fyllable  of 
difapprobation  efcape  her  aunt,  her  lips  would  trem- 
ble, her  cheek  lofe  its  carnation  hue  :  and  her  eyes 
half  filled  with  tears,  her  brow  contracted  by  the  op- 
prcflion  of  her  heart,  would  feem  to  fay,  "  Do  not 
(peak  harfhly  of  him,  I  am  certain  he  does  not  deferve 
it."  And  when  lady  Dudley  has  remarked  that  Hen- 
ry was  an  uncommon  favourite,  Ihe  would  reply,  "  Cer- 
tainly he  is,  and  can  you  blame  me  ?    Is  he  not   you» 

fen  ? 


t32         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

> 
for  ?     Surely  I  may  love  him  for  your  fake,  and  you 
will  not  contemn  me.'' 

Thus  every  perfon  that  compofed  the  family  of  Sir 
Ferdinando,  endeavoured  to  conceal  their  real  reelings  ; 
•but  Fitz-Howard  read  them  all.  Firm  his  firll  in- 
troduction, he  had  felt  his  heart  ftrongly  drawn  to- 
ward Ifabelle.  At  firft,  he  imagined  an  infnperable 
objection  would  arife  from  the  paffion  of  Dudley  ;  but 
when  from  various  circumftances  he  learnt  that  the 
parents  of  neither  party  approved  that  paffion,  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  ingratiating  himfelf  with  lady  Dud- 
ley, and  leading  her,  by  imperceptible  degrees,  to  ap- 
prove his  own  pretentions.  He  Forefaw  that  the  dif- 
ference of  religion  would  prove  an  almoft  insurmount- 
able obftacle  ;  but  Fitz-Howard  had  not  been  educa- 
ted in  a  manner,  that  would  lead  him  to  think  either 
religion  or  morality  was  of  any  very  great  conse- 
quence, when  oppofed  again  ft  his  own  inclinations. 

In  order  to  acconvpliih  this  defired  end,  he  in  turn 
made  himfelf  the  friend  and  confidant  of  all.  He  iif- 
tened  attentively  to  Sir  Ferdinando's  account  of  new 
difcoverics,  and  approved  all  the  plans  he  had  form- 
ed for  the  extending  of  the  bleffings  of  navigation  and 
commerce  over  the  whole  habitable  globe.  With 
Dudley,  he  joined  in  extolling  the  beauty,  virtue  and 
accomplishments  of  Ifabelle,  and  without  pretending 
to  perceive  the  extent  of  his  attachment,  encouraged 
the  affection  he  feemed  to  disapprove. 

To  the  lady  Ifabelle  he  was  another  character ; 
talked  of  the  different  opinions  that  were  adopted  by 
the  people  of  England  in  regard  to  religious  matters  ; 
mentioned  his  own  faith,  not  as  oppofing  it  to  the 
faith  of  the  pious,  enthufiaftic  lady  Elizabeth  ;  but  ap- 
pealing to  with  inftruction  in  the  right  way,  as  defir- 
ing  to  have  his  own  errors  corrected.  Nor  was  this 
conduct  entirely  the  refiilt  of  art;  it  was  chiefly  the 
effect  of  nature.  For  Fitz-Howard  could  never  main- 
tain his  own  opinion  againft  ftrong  argument.  In- 
deed, he  could  hardly  be  faid  to  have  an  opinicn  of 
hi^  own  ;  '  1  had  he  converfed  four  fuccefiive  days 
■    *   perfons  .of  four  different  religions,  he  would,  at 

the 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  13 y 

the  end  of  that  period,  have  been  perfuaded  that  he 
with  whom  he  converted  laft,  was  certainly  moil;  right. 
Thus  verfatile  by  nature,  it  cannot  be  wondered  at, 
that,  finding  this  verfatility  likely  to  forward  his  moft 
favourite  views,  he  took  no  pains  to  correct  it,  but 
gave  free  indulgence  to  a  difpofition,  which,  whilft  it 
rendered  him  agreeable  to  every  feparate  branch  of 
the  family,  promifed  him  ample  gratification  in  the 
favour  of  the  aunt  of  Ifabelle. 

To  Ifabelle  herfelf  he  was  tender,  afliduous  ;  in 
ftiort,  all  that  love  could  infpire,  or  friendihip  wifh. 
She  rode,  flie  walked,  fhe  danced  and  chatted  with 
Fitz-Howard  without  reftraint  ;  though  at  the  fame 
time  fhe  would  h;ve  preferred  the  a  mpany  of* 
Dudley.  But  if  his  company  gave  her  mofl  pleafure, 
it  was  a  pleafure  fo  mixed  with  anxicr  fuch  fear  of 
offending,  fuch  trembling  apprehenfion  and  embarraff- 
ment,  that  it  became  no  longer  defirablc,  and  fhe 
evidently  avoided  giving  him  any  opportunities  of 
entertaining  her,  except  in  the  prefence  of  her  father 
and  lady  Dudley. 

Fitz-Howard  pnffeffed  but  little  penetration,  but  a 
very  competent  fhare  of  vanity  fuppiied  its  place.  He 
imagined  that  the  apparent  preference  Ifabelle  (hewed 
him,  was  the  effect  of  real  liking,  and  that  Ihe  was 
captivated  by  his  pcrfon,  manners  and  fortune.  Buoy* 
ed  up  by  thefe  ideas,  he  made  propofals  to  her  father, 
offered  to  become  a  profelyte  to  the  reformed  religion, 
and  in  every  other  refpecT:  his  alliance  was  unexcep- 
tionable. 

Sir  Ferdinando,  flattering. himfelf  that  Ifabelle  was 
not  altogether  ayerfe  to  the  union,  referred  Fit/.-How- 
ard  to  his  After  for  a  final  anfwer  ;  and  lady  Dudley, 
prepollclled  in  His  favour  by  his  fpecicus  manners,  ea- 
ger to  confirm  him  a  convert  to  the  Protellant  caufe, 
and  wilhing  to  put  in  end  at  once  to  the  hopes  of  her 
ion,  approved  Ins  fuit  ;  and  that  very  evening,  as  they 
were  fitting  converting  together  in  an  unconltrainej, 
ponfidential  manner,  declared  to  her  niece  the  appro- 
bation fiie  had  given  to  the  propofals  of  Fitz-Howard, 
andadvifed  her  ferioufly  to  think  of  him  as  the  man 
deftined  to  become  her  hulband. 

N  Aftoniihmcnt 


i3+         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Aftoniflvment  for  fome  moments  kept  her  filcnt ;  at 
length  flie  told  her  aunt,  that  lhe  was  by  no  means 
partial  to  the  man  fhe  fo  warmly  recommended,  nor 
did  Ihe  wilh  to  alter  her  (tate  ;  fhe  was  perfectly  con- 
tented with  her  prefent  condition.  Happy  in  the  af- 
fection of  her  father  and  lady  Dudley,  ilie  wiihed  not 
to  quit  their  protection  for  that  of  a  ftrangcr,  and 
begged  leave  to  decline  the  propofed  union. 

"  1  am  much  afraid,  Ifabelle,"  faid  that  lady,  "  that 
you  nouiiih  improper,  nay,  criminal  wifhes.  I  fear 
you  indulge  chimerical  hopes  of  a  future  union  with 
Henry  Dudley.  But  do  not  deceive  yourfelf,  my 
child  ;  whilft  I  live,  thofe  hopes  can  never  be  realized, 
without  incurring  the  feverell  malediction  of  an  of- 
fended parent." 

"  If  I  kno-v  my  own  heart,  madam,"  faid  fiabcllc, 
fomewhat  piqued  by  her  aunt's  peremptory  prohibi- 
tion, "  it  never  yet  has  indulged  improper  hopes  or 
criminal  wifhes.  It's  every  emotion  has  been  regu- 
lated by  your  precepts,  and  I  truft  it  will  never  dil- 
honour  its  noble  inftructrefs.  But  if  to  leve  and  pre- 
fer your  fon  above  all  other  human  beings  conftitutcs 
o;uilt,  I  am  in  fome  meafure  guilty.  I  am  fcnfible  of 
the  barrier  cuftom,  and  perhaps  you  will  fay,  religion, has 
placed  between  us  ;  I  hvvc  no  wifh  to'  break  through 
that  barrier ;  but  whilft  I  am  fatisfied  with  lo\  ing 
him  only  as  a  brother,  I  fee  no  reafon  why  I  lhould 
be  compelled  to  become  the  wife  of  another." 

"  Nor  (hall  you  be  compelled,  my  dcarcft  coufin,"' 
faid  Dudley,  wlio  being  in  the  adjoining  apartment 
(the  door  if  which  had  been  accidentally  left  ajar) 
had  overheard  the  whole  converiation  ;  "  no  divine 
ordinance  forbids  our  union ;  then  why  ihould  fupcr- 
ltition  impofefuch  (hackles  on  us  ?  Have  we  not  rea- 
fon to  direct  ttS  ?  Why  then  ihould  we  fubmit  blindly 
and  implicitly  to  the  opinions  of  others  ?  Madam, 
look  not  thus  angry  on  me,"  continued  he,  turning 
toward  his  mother.  "  You  have  heard  from  her  own 
lips  the  preference  with  which  my  chaiming  coufin 
honours  me  ;  then  give  her  to  me  freely,  ar.d  with 
her  beftow  your  maternal  benediction.     For  here,   in 

the 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  155 

the  fight  of  Heaven,  I  vow  folemnly  to  have  no  vile 
but  her,  to  live  but  for  her  fake,  and  may  that  mo- 
ment put  a  period  to  my  exigence,  in  which  (he  is 
feparated  from  me." 

It  was  in  vain  lady  Dudley  attempted  to  interrupt 
him  before  the  folemn  vow  had  pafTed  his  lips ;  in  vain 
flic  entreated  him  to  recal  it.  He  repeated  it  with  a  ve- 
hemence that  made  her  tremble  ;  and  turning  from 
him  in  difpleafure,  flic  took  the  hand  of  the  affrighted 
Ifabclle,  and  led  her  from  the  apartment.  Dilguit'e 
had  now  become  ufelefs  to  all  parties.  Ifabelle,  daily 
tormented  by  the  afliduities  of  Fitz-Howard,  admon- 
iflied  by  her  aunt  and  threatened  by  her  father,  felt 
c\illence  a  burthen.  The  time  lhe  was  obliged  to 
pafs  in  company  flic  laboured  under  the  moft  cruel 
constraint,  and  her  hours  of  retirement  were  fpent  in 
fighsj  tears,  and  unavailing  complaints. 

Dudley  no  longer  made  one  of  the  family.  Hi  had 
removed  to  a  houi'e  of  his  own,  where  he  had  folicited 
his  mother  to  prefide  ;  but  her  affection  for  her  brother 
had  prompted  her  at  firfl  to  decline  the  propofal,  and 
the  reafon  may  eafily  be  conceived,  why  Henry  now 
ceafed  to  urge  his  requcft.  Fitz-Howard  too  had 
quitted  the  houfe  of  Sir  Ferdinando,  for  apartments 
where,  being  himfelf  mafter,  his  actions  were  not  fo 
flriclly  fcrutinized  as  they  were  liable  to  be  in  the 
family  of  a  man  virtuous  from  principle,  and  fmcerely 
pious,  without  being  either  a  bigot  or  an  enthufiaft. 

Though  Dudley  was  no  longer  an  inmate  in  the 
family,  he  was  a  daily  viiitant  at  the  houfe  of  his  un- 
cle, and  found  fufficient  opportunities  to  forward  his 
fuit  with  Ifabelle  ;  perfecutcd  on  one  iide,  and  ear- 
neflly  folu-ited  on  the  other,  where  is  the  wonder  that 
fhe  fliould  liften  to  the  fyren  voice  of  honourable  love, 
and,  beftowing  her  hand  on  him  who  had  long  pof- 
felfed  her  heart,  become  the  wife  of  Dudley  ?  Secretly, 
and  by  his  ov,i  chaplain,  was  the  ceremony  perform- 
ed. They  waited  a  favourable  moment  to  fupplicate 
a  paternal  bkiiing,  and,  fearful  of  a  premature  difcov- 
ery,  became  more  circumfpedr.  in  their  behaviour  to- 
wards  c.uh   ether j  their  in  L.eryjews   were   condv.ctvj 

with 


136         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  o*, 

v.'iih   the    utmcfl   caution,    and   fufpteion   was    again 
lulled  afleep.      But   Fitx-Howard    Hill  perilled  in  his 
tfaqpgh  treated  with  the  moil  contempt 
efs  by  the  object  of  his  adoration* 

The  Spring  was  now  rapidly  advancing,  and  the  la- 
dy Dudley  reSSroVed  ivith    her  niece  to  an  elegant  feat 
fTefled-near  Windfor.     .Sir  Ferdinmdo,  fully  oc- 
cupied in  the  laudable   de/ign  Of  extending    the   bloF- 
I  iwrfelf  enjoyed,  to  diftant,  uneuligihtened  nations, 
felddm  quitted  the  capital,  except  for  an  hcur  or  two, 
the  Jic.Ii  air,  and  enjoy  the  pleafure  of  be- 
holding his  beloved  child. 

In  this  retirement,  Dudley  often  vifited  his  wife  ; 
and  anfortunacely,  Eit/.-Howard,  who  had  taken  up 
hii  furmner  refidettce  at  Windfor,  few  him  come  from 
:  den  of  lady  Dudley  one  morning  at  four  o'clock. 
That  a  fon  fliould  be  feen  coming  from  the  dwelling 
of  his  mother,  was  in  itfelf  nothing  furprifmg  ;  but 
Fit/-IIoward  knew  there  was  a  coolnefs  between 
them,  and  iurewdly  fufpeclcd  to  whom  thefe  early  vif- 
its  were  p.iid.  His  chief  knowledge  of  the  fex  being 
formed  from  his  acquaintance  among  the  mod  un- 
worthy part,  he  had  always  affirmed  that  every  wom- 
an may  be  won,  however  feemingly  virtuous.  Im- 
preffed  with  this  idea,  he  imagined  Ifabelle  had  forgot 
the  refpecl:  due  to  henelf,  and,  whilft  his  bread  fwelled 
with  envy  at  the  fuppofed  good  fortune  of  Dudley,  he 
refolved  to  (hare  her  favours  with  him. 

To  this  end  he  became  mor.  arduous  in  his  vifits  ;. 
and  one  evening  having  followed  her  into  the  garden,. 
Informing  her  mil  with  his  k:,>  of  Henry's  vif- 

its, he  addreifed  her  the  challe  f<  nl 

of  Ifabelle  congeal  to  an  icicle.  Swelling  refentmerit 
for  a  moment  kept  her  iilent,  and  when  her  woids 
found  vent,  that  laudable  reientment  added  keenneft 
to  her  reproof.  Her  pointed  rebukes,  which  ihould 
have  effectually  repuiied  his  pafllon,  lerved  but  to  in- 
flame it;  he  caught  her  in  his  arms  ;  fhe  Uirieked  ; 
her  voice  caught  the  jar  of  her  hufband,  who  had  juit 
entered  the  garden  by  a  ]  rivate  door,  to  keep  an  appoint- 
ment he  had  made  with  her  the  preceding  day.-     1 

lk 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  137 

Ihe  (hrieked  ;  he  redoubled  his  fpeed,  and  entering  the 
arbour,  ftruck  the  alfailer  of  his  honour  to  the  earth, 
before  his  ftep  had  been  heard  approaching. 

Ifabelle  was  a  woman  poffefTed  of  ftrong  fortitude  ; 
but  terror,  joy,  apprehenfion  at  once  availed  her,  and 
(he  funk  fainting  upon  the  earth.  Her  hufband  ftoop- 
ed  to  raife  her,  and  the  cowardly  Fitz-Howard,  med- 
itating only  revenge,  recovered  from  the  blow  which 
had  for  a  moment  ftunned  his  faculties,  fnatched  a  fti- 
letto  from  his  fide,  where  he  constantly  wore  it,  and 
plunged  it  into  the  bofom  of  Dudley. 

The  cries  of  Ifabelle  had  reached  the  ear  of  her 
aunt,  and  (he  had  lent  out  fcrvants  in  quefl;  of  her. 
They  approached  the  arbour  with  torches,  at  the  very 
moment  this  bloody  deed  was  perpetrated,  and  in  the 
confufion  that  eni'ued,  Fitz-Howard  efcaped.  The 
apparently  lifelefs  bodies  were  railed,  and  borne  into 
the  houfe.  Ifabelle  in  a  few  moments  recovered,  but 
the  foul  of  Dudley  was  fled  forever. 

The  defpair  of  his  mother  was  great,  yet  was  it  not 
to  be  compared  with  the  anguilh  of  heart  under  which 
the  unfortunate  Ifabelle  fu  fie  red  ;  for  to  the  lofs  of  the 
being  lhe  prized  moft  on  earth,  was  added  the  re- 
proaches of  her  aunt,  and  the  refentment  of  her  father. 
In  the  fir  ft  moments  of  her  forrow  (he  difclofed  the 
fecret  of  their  marriage,  and  lady  Dudley,  far  from 
blaming  heffelf  as  the  author  of  the  fatal  cataftrophe, 
told  the  heart  broken  Ifabelle,  it  was  a  juft  puniihment 
(no  doubt  lent  from  Heaven)  for  her  difobediencc  and 
unl  iwful  love. 

Sir  Ferdinando  forbade  her  his  prefence,  and  (lie 
was  driven  from  the  houfe  of  her  aunt  by  repeated 
taunts  and  opbraidings.  As  the  widow  of  Dudley, 
(he  was  in  affluent  circumftances  ;  but  of  what  value 
is  wealth  to  the  pollcffor, 

"  When  each  fond  afTcftion  is  fled, 

"  And  each  fenfe  of  pkafure  lies  cold." 

She  could  not  be  faid  to  live  ;  it  was  barely  exig- 
ence ;  exigence  not  worth  preferving,  yet  obliged  to 
be  endured. 

Na  At 


i33  REUBEN  and  RACHEL;  or, 

At  length  ihe  became  a  mother,  and  the  tendernefc, 
the  cares  and  pleafures  naturally  attendant  on  the  ma- 
ternal character,  awakened  her  dormant  ieniibility. 
Her  feelings  were  not  dead,  only  benumbed  ;  as  the 
limpid  ftream,  arreted  in  its  cou'rie  by  the  chilly  hand 
of  winter,  becomes  flagrant,  nay,  almoft  an  impene- 
trable mafs,  till  the  infant  fpring,  with  genial  waimth, 
gradually  diffolves  the  frigid  fpell  ;  when  it  again 
proceeds  in  its  ufual  meanders,  beautifying  and  fer- 
tilizing every  meadow  through  which  it  paffes.  So 
the  mind  of  Ifabelle,  awakened  from  its  torpid  Hate 
by  her  infant  fon,  expanded  to  receive  the  new-born 
pleafure  of  rearing  and  infhucting  him.  Every  fond 
affection  of  her  foul  centered  in  him,  and  if  ihe  (ludi- 
ed  to  improve  her  mind,  it  was  ever  with  the  delight- 
ful hope  of  transmitting  that  improvement  to  the  miud 
of  her  child. 

From  the  day  of  Henry's   death,    the  lady    Dudley 
had  declined,  and  lhc  died  without  forgiving   I&bd 

Sir    Ferdinando's  reientment   had    been    powcrfu1, 
but  his  affecVion   towards  his    daughter  was   greater  ; 
.and   when  there   was  no   longer   any  one  to   keep  the 
former  awake,  it  gradually   died   away,  and  the  latter 
revived  with  all  its  primitive  fervor.      He  fent  for  his 
daughter,  was  reconciled  to   her,  and  breaking  up  his 
own  houfehold,  became  an  inmate  in  her  manfion.     His 
grandicn   amufed    his  Jblitary   hours,   and   made   the 
chords   of  feniibility   vibrate   in   delicious   harmo: 
v.hiht  Ifabelle,  with  cheerful,  unaffected,  filial  pi-.t   , 
foftened  the  pillow  of  declining  age,  and    ftrewed    : 
.path  that  Lads  but  to  the  grave,  with  flowers  fo  lweet, 
jts  rude  defcent  vasfcarce   perceptible  ;  nor  did   i 
thorn  qr   briar  Appear,   to  impede   the  journey   or 
wound  jthf  it  mull  per  force  pais  over  it. 

Young  Dudley  was  chriitened  Edward  ;  "  F<  r 
alas!"  laid  his  mother  "  Henry  was  an  unfortun...  c 
name.  Careifed,  alrnpft  idolized  by  his  grandfatl.  >, 
and  educated  immediately  under  his  own  eye,  Edward 
almoit  imperceptibly  imbibed  the  enterprising  fpirit 
that  had  characterized  his  anceltors. 

He 


TALES    o-f    OLD    TIMES.         r3gi 

He  delighted  in  converting  with  Otooa,  a  native 
of  North-America,  who  was  a  fervant  to  Sir  Ferdi- 
nando.  His  little  heart  would  bound  with  transport 
at  the  description  of  vail  oceans,  irnme;ifurable  conti- 
nents, and  climes  as  yet  unexplored  by  Europeans; 
and,  feized  with  an  irrefutable  defire  to  vifit  the  new 
world  in  America,  in  the  year  1632,  embarked  for 
New-England.  His  inquiring  nature  found  ample 
irr.uWV.  •  ■  wing  in  this   novel  fcene,    the  va- 

lowers,  plan:-,  fniubs,  in; eels, birds  and  animals, 
to  wlv  uropean  world  were  llrangers.      Simple 

in  his  lxumnen,  rational  in  his  1  }  ii.ions,  and  truly    fin- 
pete  in  hisproil  piety,  Edward  Dudley  became 
a  favourite   in   the    colony.     And   v.  hen   the  do 
his  grandfather  called  him  home,  he  was  parted   with 
unwillingly,  and  with  Gncere  regret. 

He  married  in  the  year  1644  tne  k^y  Arabella 
Rutlrjii  ;  and  the  troubles  in  England  loon  after  in- 
ereafimg,  on  account  of  the  perfecutkm  of  dii.entcr-s, 
whole  religious  tenets  Dudley  favoured,  he  fold  his 
bftates  •  and,  parbbafing  a  vdiel,  which  he  loaded 
with  ;  roviiions,  farming  utenlds,  ar.d  form 
dize,  hivnfclf  and  lady,  (who  from  that  time  was  ir-1- 
e  1  da  1  e  Arrabella.)  with  an  extenfivc  houichold,  em- 

I  for  New-Hamp&rre,  and  landeJ,  afi 
big  v,     i    \  in  October,  1645,  m  tolerable  heard  . 
moit  excellent  i\  irks. 

CHAP.       XVI. 

BitftfTng  tfic  tranced  fancy  fly 
O'er  oceans  vuft  from  fliorc  to   f,<.  ■  . 

UDLEY  and  his  fair  companion  having  trans- 
ported over,  in  the  veilel  with  themfelvcs,  the 
trame,.  and  every  material  ncediary  to  form  a  com- 
plete, habitation,  immediately  cu  landing,  employed 
workmen  to  fet  it  up  ;  but  the  cold  coming  on  1 
rapidly  than  they  expected,  but  little  progrefs  could 

be 


140         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

be  made  that  winter,  and  Arrabella  fuffered  much  in- 
convenience from  the  want  of  thofe  indulgencies  to 
which,  from  her  birth,  fhe  had  been  accultomed.  But 
fhe  was  not  a  woman  to  complain  for  trifles,  or,  having 
once  embarked  in  a  cauie,  eafily  to  be  frighted  from 
purfuing  it. 

The  inclemency  of  the  winter  was  accordingly  parted 
over  with  patience*,  and  as  foon  as  the  enlivening  fun  re- 
laxed the  fprings  and  called  the  tender  herbage  forth, 
two  apartments  in  their  new  houfe  being  rendered  hab- 
itable, (lie  exerted  her  utmoft  endeavours  to  add  a  de- 
gree of  neatnefs  and  elegance  to  what  was  abiblutely 
necefiary  for  comfort.  All  the  accomplifhments  ihe 
poifelfed,  were  at  her  leifure  hours  exerted  to  embel- 
lifh  and  render  their  dwelling  pleafant.  It  was  (itu- 
ated  above  ten  miles  from  the  fea. 

Dudley  had,  on  his  lirfl  arrival,  purchafed  a  large 
tract  of  uncultivated  land.  Having  got  a  fmall  por- 
tion of  it  clear,  immediately  furrounding  his  habita- 
tion, Arrabella,  both  by  her  tafte,  and  knowledge  in 
agriculture,  arfifted  in  rendering  it  at  once  pleafant 
and  ferviceable.  Part  of  it  was  converted  into  a 
kitchen  garden,  to  the  cultivation  of  which  Arrabella 
was  particularly  attentive.  With  her  own  hands 
would  (lie  weed,  water,  or  tranfplant  the  young  vege- 
tables ;  and  having  fown  a  few  flower  feeds  which  lhe 
had  brought  with  her  from  Europe,  the  watching  a 
plant  as  it  advanced  in  growth,  or  a  bud  as  it  gradu- 
ally difclofed  the  opening  flower,  aiforded  her  the 
mod  innocent  fatisfaclion  ;  and  from  this  conltant  at- 
tention to  her  garden,  lhe  gleaned  at  ence  employ- 
ment, health  and  amufement. 

But  Arrabella  did  not  neglect  her  needle ;  and 
when  the  enfuing  year  produced  them  a  fmall  quanti- 
ty of  flax  from  their  own  land,  with  what  exulting 
pride  did  fhe  purchafe  a  wheel,  and  fet  about  manu- 
facturing it  into  linen  for  her  family  tife  ! 

Delightful  age  of  primitive  fimplicity,  when  the 
mother  of  a  numerous  family  did  not  blufh  (though 
furrotmded  by  affluence)  to  fet  the  example  of  induf- 
try  to  her  daughters}  whenihe  would prefide  amongft 

them, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  141 

then,  whilft  they  were  converting  the  produce  oi 
their  father's  flocks  and  fields  into  clothing  tor  die 
family.  And  with  what  a  laudable  pride  did  me  look 
roiuul  on  her  hulband,  her  children  and  iervants,  and 
fay,  "That  cloth,  that  linen,  thofc  gowns,  are  all  of 
our  own  manufacturing." 

1  iv;:.r  wants  were  few,  and  thofe  few  were  amply 
fupplied  ;  plenty  preiidtd  at  their  hoard,  and  che< 
nefs  was  a  conltant  inmate  in  their  dwellings,  iiu'c 
indolence  introduced  luxury  with  her  innumerable 
train  ot~  artificial  wants.  Though  at  firit  repulfcd, 
ftill  would  the  foree'refs  return,  varying  her  lhape  to 
gain  her  favourite  point  ;  to  pride,  lhe  took  the  iorm 
of  neceflity;  to  the  voluptuous,  ihe  wore  the  femblancc 
of  indulgence  ;  to  each  fhe  appeared  in  fame  feductivt 
form,  and  none  but  the  truly  induitrious  hand  and 
contented  heart  could  bid  defiance  to  her  arts.  Alas  ! 
the  number  was  but  fmall  that  efcaped  the  contagion 
lhe  fpread  through  aU  ranks  of  people,  till  at  length 
the  fafcirtatkta  became  univciTal.  By  her  magic  pow- 
er lhe  threw  a  miit  over  the  decerning  optics  ot 
the  moil  rational  ;  they  law  not  the  deformity  ihe 
concealed  under  her  gorgeous  robe,  but  blind, ,  v.vr- 
■lhipped,  whilft  ihe  led  them  to  the  very  brink  of  ruin. 

A  few  years  rendered  the  habitation  of  Dudley  and 
Arrabella  extremely  delightful,  and,  added  to  other 
KWnaerotts  comforts  and  bleffings  which  they  enjoyed, 
was  a  riling  family  of  beautiful  children.  How  did 
this  family  at  once  incrcafe  the  pleafures  and  the  cares 
ot'  their  reipc-crahle  mother  !  AnxiOus  not  only  i<  r  their 
prelent  hue  future  happinefo,  fhe  laboured  to  cultivate 
fteir  uAiderftandirtgs,  and  point  out  to  them  limn 

tl  pleafure,  thai  w<  uid  delightfully  fill  up   every 
moment  when  employment  pauied. 

The  morning  walk,  the  evening  ramble,  ftill  atTord- 
ed  fomething  to  ini'truel    and  improve,  is  the 

winter  evening  iteri'.e  or  uriprorit  ible.  Edifying  con- 
venation,  books  and  needle-work,  charmingly  diverfi* 
fed  the  Icene,  blending  the  uleful  wich   the  agreeable' 

It  was  in  the  ftimmer  of  1661,  the  eldcu"  child  oi." 
Dudley,  a  foa  named  William,  who  wa»  about  fi 

\  ears 


j42         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

years  old,  and  his  youngeft,  :i  daughter  ciilca  Rachel, 
fcarcely  two,  when  fomc  difagreernents  having  fallen- 
out  between  the  native  Indians  and  the  Englilh  fettkrs, 
the  former  frequently  made  inroads  on  the  latter,  plun- 
dering and  burning  their  habitations,  and  either 
facreing  the  inhabitants,  or  taking  them  prifoners  and 
carrying  them  up  the  country,  where  they  often  ex'cr- 
cifed  on  them  the  moil  wanton  barbarity  ;  fcalping, 
maiming  and  disfiguring  them,  if  at  hilt  'they  fathered 
them  to  efcape  with  life.  But  what  could  be  expect- 
ed from  the  untaught  favage,  whole  territories  had 
been  invaded  by  llrangers,  and  who  perhaps  had  fuf- 
fered,  from  the  cruelty  of  the  invaders,  in  the  perfon 
of  a  father,,  brother,  fon,  or  fome  near  connexion. 
Revenge  is  a  principle  inherent  in  human  nature,  and 
it  is  only  the  fublime  and  heavenly  doctrine  of  Chrif- 
tianity  that  teaches  us  to  repel  the  impulfe,  and  return 
good  for  evil. 

The  morning  was  fine.  Cheerful  had  Arrabella 
arofe,  and,  furrounded  by  her  little  family,  joined  with 
their  father  in  their  morning  adorations  to  the  Giver 
of  all  good.  This  indifpenfable  duty  performed,- Dud- 
ley went  to  fuperintend  his  mowers ;  and  his  wife, 
calling  her  girls,  to  the  number  of  five,  together,. began 
the  ulual  tafk  of  inftruction.  But  the  little  Rachel 
was  not  inclined  to  be  quiet  ;  fhe  was  more  inclined 
for  play  than  fitting  (till.  She  climbed  up  in  her 
mother's  lap,  laired  her,  and  in  childifh  fport  threw 
the  book  on  the  floor. 

"It  is  impoffible  to  attend  ferioufly  to  any  thing," 
faid  her  mother,  "  whilft  this  little  mad-cap  is  here. 
Do,  William,  take  her  into  the  garden.  William 
obeyed,  and  from  the  garden  ftrayed  into  an  adjoining 
wood,  where,  intent  on  a  book  which  his  father  had 
d. fired  him  to  perufe  with  attention,  he  fuffered  the 
little  prattler  to  play  round,  pluck  flowers,  and  catch 
grafshopj 

Arrabella  was  purfuing  her  employment,  with  all 
the  delight  a  fond  mother  can  feel,  who  marks  the 
daily  improvement  of  her  children,  and  fees  them  ea- 
gerly driving  who  (hculd   forcmoil  reach    the   goal  of 

perfection, 


TALES    gf    OLD    TIMES.  143 

perfection,  when  an  old  fervant,  the  only  male  then 
about  the  houfe,  rufiied  into  die  apartment,  exclaim- 
ing, with  looks  of  horror,  "  The  natives  !  the  natives !" 
Starting  from  her  feat  with  precipitation,  lhe  turned 
towards  the  window,  and  law  a  band  of  lavages  erod- 
ing through  a  field  of  corn,  not  very  far  from  the 
houfe.  "  Fly  !  fly  !  my  children,"  lhe  cried,  taking 
the  two  youngeft  by  the  hand  ;  and  followed  by  the 
eldert,  they  rulhed  out  of  a  door  that  led  a  contrary 
way  to  the  road  the  favages  were  coming. 

There  was  in  the  very  wood  where  William  had 
•Wandered  with  his  infant  filler,  a  cavern  formed  by 
the  cunning  hand  of  nature,  the  recedes  of  which  Ar- 
rabella  had  in  days  of  happinefs  frequently  explored. 
•Her  prefence  of  mind  in  this  terrifying  exigence  did 
not  forfake  her.  With  halty,  yet  trembling  Hep-,  flie 
led  her  children  thither;  nor  was  it  till  retting  en  the 
ground  in  its  remoteft  winding,  Avh.cn  lhe  lelt  her  five 
children  hanging  about  her,  that  lhe  recollected  Will- 
iam and  Rachel. 

"  Oh  !  my  children  !  my  children  !"  exclaimed  flie, 
fiuldcnly  ftarting  up.  "  We  are  all  here,  mother," 
they  anfwered  with  united  voices. 

"  But  where  !  Oh  where  !"  cried  fiic  franticly, 
"  is  your  1  rother  William,  and  your  filler  Rachel?'' 
"  Oil  !  my  poor  brother,  my  dear,  fweet  little  filler," 
fiaid  the  children  fieverally  ;  "let  us  go  back,  mother, 
let  us  go  back  and  look  for  them." 

"  No,  my  darlings,  no  !"  lhe  replied,  finking  again 
on  the  ground,  and  drawing  them  clofer  towards  her  ; 
"  that  would  indeed  be  to  fufrer  you  to  run  into  the 
very  claws  of  the  defiroycr.  The  great  God  of  heav- 
en and  earth  infpired  me  with  the  thought  of  bring- 
ing von  here  for  fafety  ;  he  will,  I  truft,  protect  us; 
and  his  power  to  protect  and  lave,  even  from  the  jaws 
of  death,  is  equal  throughout  this  wide-extended  uni- 
Verfc.  He  can  guard  all  your  brothers,  your  filler, 
and  your  father  too.  Let  us  kneel,  my  children,  and 
implore  his  mercy." 

At  the  mention  of  their  father,  and  the  recollection 
of  their  brothers,  Charles,  James  and  Chrillopher,  who 

were 


144        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

were  in  the  field  with  ]iim,  the  girls  wept  aloud.  Ar- 
abella poured  forth  her  find  in  fervent  prayer,  and 
the  kneeling  innocents,  in  broken  accents,  fobbed  . 

The  female  fervants,  terrified  at  the  approach  of 
the  favages,  in  their  eagernefs  to  elude  them  ran  di- 
rectly into  their  power,  and  infiantly  became  victims, 
to  their  fury.  They  dtfpatched  them  with  their  toma- 
hawks, and,  dripping  off  their  fcalps,  kept  them  as 
proofs  of  their  endeavours  to  extirpate  the  Engliih 
from  amongft  them.  The  man  who  had  alarmed  his 
mifirefs  ran  out  of  the  houfe  by  the  fame  way  Hie  had 
taken  :  but  thinking  it  would  be  right  to  alarm  his 
mafter,  inftcad  of  following  her,  made  the  belt  of  his 
wav  to  the  field  where  the  mowers  were  at  work. 

The  favages  having  lirled  the  houfe  of  provifions, 
wearing  apparel,  and  every  thing  which  they  conceiv- 
ed would  be  any  ways  ferviccable  to  themfelves,  let 
fire  to  it,  and  then  departed,  with  horrid  yells  of  ex- 
ultation at  having  done  all  the  mifchief  in  their  | 
to  an  Engliih  family.  William  was,  at  the  m<  ment 
the  flames  burft  forth,  juft:  returning  with  his  little 
fitter.  His  father's  houfe  on  fire,  and  a  band  of  In- 
dians in  frantic  rage  battening  towards  them,  was 
a  fight  that  filled  with  the  molt  horrid  prefages  the 
breafi  of  William.  He  faw  there  would  be  no  way 
to  efcape  them  ;  fo,  clafping  the  infant  Rachel  in  his 
arms,  he  knelt  on  the  ground,  fear  almolt  fufpending 
every  faculty. 

One  of  the  forcmofi  of  the  favage  troop_had  railed 
his  tomahawk  to  difpatch  the  boy  ;  but  the  child,  with 
one  arm  clinging  to  her  brother's  neck,  extended  the 
other  little  innocent  hand  as  if  to  ward  off  the  blow, 
and  fcreaming,  cried,  "  Don'tee,  don'tec."  At  that 
moment  a  fquaw,  who  held  a  papoufe  at  her  brcaft, 
threw  herfelf  before  the  fuppliant  children,  and  faid  in 
their  own  language,  "  You  (hall   not  kill    the  infant." 

The  attempt  fcemed  to  have  been  the  impulfe  of  the 
moment,  for  it  required  but  little  perfuafion  to  turn 
the  Indian  from  his  purpofe  ;  he  dropped  the  infiru- 
ment  of  death  ;  William  ftarted  from  the  ground,  ran 
to  the  kind  hearted  woman,   killed  her  hands,   bathed 

them 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  145 

them  with  his  tears,  and  pointing  to  the  fky,  gave  her 
to  underftand,  that  the  Power  who  dwelt  above  that 
azure  firmament  would  reward  her.  Her  own  infant  be- 
ing returned  to  her  back,  (the  mode  in  which  the  In- 
dian women  in  general  carry  their  children)  fhe  took 
Rachel  in  her  arms  ;  and  William  being  made  to 
affilt  in  carrying  their  plunder,  they  proceeded  on 
their  march  ;  a  weary  march  it  was  to  the  poor  little 
captives. 

Otawee,  for  that  was  the  name  of  their  proteclrefs, 
did  all  fhe  could  to  make  little  Rachel  eafy,  but  lhe 
continued  at  intervals  to  cry  for  her  mother  ;  and 
William,  his  feet  lacerated  by  the  fharp  flints  and 
thorns  he  encountered  in  the  rugged  paths  through 
irhich  he  was  obliged  to  pals,  his  heart  bleeding  for 
what  he  thought  mull  have  been  the  fate  of  his  belov- 
ed parents,  brothers  and  fillers,  proceeded  as  well  as 
he  could  till  towards  the  evening  of  the  fecond  day, 
when,  overcome  with  fatigue,  grief  and  long  falling, 
(for  he  could  not  eat  the  food  they  offered  him)  he  fell 
minting  to  the  earth.  *  Fortunately  they  were  now 
near  the  end  of  their  march,  or  it  is  more  than  proba- 
ble the  unfortunate  boy  would  have  been  left  to  periih 
in  the  woods.  As  it  was,  two  young  Indians  bore 
him  between  them  to  the  water-fide,  put  him  in  a  ca- 
noe, and  Otawee  fitting  down  befide  him,  threw  wa- 
ter on  his  face,  raifed  his  head  on  her  knee,  and  forc- 
ing him  to  fwallow  a  little  fpirits,  he  by  degrees  re- 
covered. 

This  party  of  plunderers  were  natives  of  Narha- 
ganfet.  Two  or  three  unprincipled  and  licentious 
Europeans  having  made  incurfions  amongft  them, 
plundering  their  little  icttlcments,  burning  their  wig- 
wams, and  practifing  other  enormities,  as  mud  cer- 
tainly awaken  a  fpirit  of  revenge  in  the  bofom  of  per- 
fons  better  regulated  than  thole  of  untutored  favages  ; 
fcvcral  families  who  had  becd  particularly  injured, 
formed  themfelves  into  a  party,  and  embarking  in  their 
canoes,  proceeded  up  Connecticut  river,  landing  wher- 
ever they  thought  there  was  no  fear  of  oppofition, 
O  and 


(46         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  »r, 

y.nd  wreaking  their  vengeance  on  the  unguarded  and 
innocent  inhabitants. 

Dudley  had,  from  his  firft  fettlement,  been  a  man 
of ' peace i  happy  in  his  family,  fully  employed  in  cul- 
tivating and  improving  his  little  domain,  he  ftepped 
not  out  of  his  own  domeRic  concerns,  except  it  was  to 
affift  a  neighbour,  (for  any  European  family,  fettled 
within  twenty  miles,  was  at  that  early  period  termed 
a  neighbour)  or  to  inftrucl  a  new  fettler  in  the  beft 
mode  of  clearing  his  lands  ;  to  which  inftruclions  he 
ever  readily  added  any  help  his  fervants,  horfcs,  oxen, 
or  even  himfelf  could  give. 

Such  a  man  could  hardly  be  fuppofed  an  object  of 
enmity  to  any ;  but  his  habitation  had  been  marked 
by  an  Indian  who  had  ftrayed  from  his  companions. 
Its  lonely  fituation,  its  flourifhing  appearance,  which 
proniiied  plenty  of  plunder  without  fear  of  Opposition, 
determined  them  to  attack  it ;  but  when  they  had 
committed  this  outrage  on  a  quiet,  inoffenfive  family, 
they  well  knew  it  would  not  be  long  before  they  were 
purfucd.  They  accordingly  made  all  the  hafte  they 
could  to  the  place  where  they  had  left  their  canoes, 
and  embarking  with  the  plunder  they  had  obtained, 
proceeded  immediately  home.  On  their  way  thither, 
meeting  with  a  party  who  came  from  the  more  eaftern 
parts  ;  and,  fearful  that  the  young  captives  they  had, 
might,  if  fecn,  betray  them  to  the  Englilh,  they  fold 
them,  and  William  and  Rachel  were  carried  to  a 
greater  diltance  than  it  could  hardly  be  believed  poili- 
ble  for  the  Indians  to  proceed  in  their  little  birch  ca- 
noes. When  being  landed  on  a  very  wild  and  totally 
uncultivated  place,  they  were  marched  three  days 
journey  from  the  fea-(hore,  and  prcfented  to  the  fquavr 
pf  their  fachem  for  iervants. 

Otooganoo  was  a  man  naturally  gentle,  fond  of 
peace,  and  eager  in  his  endeavours  to  promote  the 
welfare  of  his  people.  He  had  ever  recommended  to 
them  to  treat  the  Grangers  who  were  come  to  fettle 
amongft  them  with  hoipitality  ;  but  it  was  not  i'1  his 
power  to  reftrain  the  impetuofity  of  youth,  o:  to  uirb 
die   licentious   ha.nd    of  the    rapacious.      When   the 

fOOBiJ 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  147 

.young  captives  were  brought  to  his  wigwam,  he  re- 
buked thofe  who  brought  them,  and  bade  William  to 
banifh  all  his  fears  ;  for  he  would  be  a  father  to  him, 
and,  if  ever  opportunity  offered,  reftore  him  to  his 
natural  parent.  His  wife  was  particularly  pleaied 
with  little  Rachel,  and  the  kindnefs  of  thefe  two  good 
Indians  rendered  the  lives  of  the  brother  and  fifter 
as  comfortable  as  the  nature  of  their  ikuation  would 
admit  of. 

..<■■<•<  .< «45*>-f  *^>>->  •->■  > ••> 

CHAP.       XVII. 
Real  Affliaiom. 

AT  the  alarm  given  by  the  fervant  mentioned  m 
the  preceding  chapter,  Mr.  Dudley,  accompa- 
nied by  his  labourers  and  little  ions,  made  all  pofiible 
hafte  to  the  houle  ;  but  who  can  defcribe  his  feelings, 
when  he  beheld  the  manfion  where  he  had  taken  his 
morning's  repaft  in  all  the  iecurity  of  conic  Lous  inno- 
cence of  heart,  and  in  which  he  had  left  tho& 
of  his  foul,  his  wife  and  leven  children,  a  heap  <  f  . 
ing  ruins  2  When  he  beheld,  ftretched  on  the  earth, 
.the  mangled  bodies  oi'  his  female  fervajjts,  the  forti- 
tude cf  the  man  was  loit  in  the  anguiih  of  the  hufband 
and  father.  He  raifed  his  hands  and  eyes  in  agony 
towards  heaven,  his  heart  was  too  much  opprefled  to 
allow  even  the  relief  oi  tears,  and  he  fell  lifclefs  to  the 
ground.  His  three  fons  endeavoured  to  raife  him, 
they  called  repeatedly  on  his  name,  and  finding  he  re- 
mained totally  infenfible,  v.  rung  their  hands,  and  wept 
with  convulfive  violence. 

At  length  nature,  which  had  been  i  ed  by 

the  fuddennefs  and  greatnefs  of  the  affliction,  in  fozae 
meafure  revived.     He  raifed  his  eyes,  h  m  on 

his  weeping  boy-,  and  as  if,  at  the  light  of  them,  re- 
colle&ing  that  it  was  a  fignal  mercy  that  they  were 
faved  from  the  general  wreck,  he  endeavoured  to  re- 
pel the  feniibility  that  had  overpowered  him,  and  fum- 
mon  reiblution  to  fcarch  round  the  garden,   fields  and 

out  ho ufc s, 


148         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

out-hcufes,  feme  of  which  had  efcaped  the  fury  of  the 
Indians. 

But  in  vain  he  fought,  in  vain  he  repeatedly  called 
on  Arrabella  and  her  children  ;  not  a  veflige  of  them 
could  he  find.  That  they  efcaped  out  of  the  houfe 
before  the  favages  entered,  the  ftrvant  had  informed 
him  ;  but  their  Weaknefs  from  age  and  fex,  he  imag- 
ined, would  prevent  their  going  far.  They  might  be 
overtaken  in  their  flight.  They  might  be  carried  in- 
to captivity.  A  thoufand  conjectures  prefented  them- 
felves  to  his  diftrafted  thoughts,  but  none  of  them 
glanced  towards  the  right.  At  length,  weary  and 
heart  broken,  he  was  perfuaded  by  his  fervants  to  go,, 
with  the  remains  of  his  family,  to  the  neareft  Europe- 
an fettlement.  Accordingly,  they  put  the  children 
in  a  cart,  and  Mr.  Dudley  mounting  a  horfe,  the  la- 
bourers followed  in  the  beft  manner  they  were  able, 
and  late  at  night  they  arrived  at  Plymouth  ;  where 
the  relation  of  the  fad  events  of  the  day  filled  the 
whole  fettlement  with  alarm.  Every  one  was  ready 
mpathize  with  the  reflected  Dudley,  and  their 
fympathy  was  doubly  cordial,  as  in  pitying  him,  each 
father  of  a  family  felt  it  might  have  been  his  own. 
cafe. 

But  to  return  to  the  afflicted  mother  and  her  daugh- 
ters. Never  was  a  day  and  a  night  paffed  in  more 
agony,  never  did  day  and  night  appear  fo  tedious  ; 
the  mother,  trembling  for  the  fate  of  her  children,  and 
in  her  own  mind  certain  that  her  hufband  and  their 
father  had  fallen  victims  to  their  favage  foe,  fhudder.- 
ed  at  every  blaft  of  wind  that  howled  through  the 
dreary  cavern,  thinking  it  was  the  yell  of  the  Indians* 
And  if,  during  the  long,  long  night,  weary  nature  pauf- 
ed  in  momentary  forgetfulnefs,  ihe  would  ftart  with, 
redoubled  terror,  and  call  on  her  children  feverally, 
fearing,  whilft  fhe  had  ceafed  to  watch,  they  might 
have  been  matched  from  her. 

Several  times  did  ihe  venture  almoft  to  the  moiuh. 
of  the  recefs  ;  but  the  ruftling  of  the  trees,  the  found 
of  animals'  feet,  which  fhe  miftook  for  human,  would 
maks  her  run  back  ;   and  nothing  but  the  mo  ft  preffing 

calls. 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  149 

calls  of  hunger,  which  her  children  began  to  exprefe 
by  loud  and  impatient  cries,  could  have  driven  her  at 
laft  from  her  retreat. 

She  ventured  at  laft  entirely  to  quit  it,  and  with  fee- 
ble fteps  led  her  almoft  famifhed  little  group  towards 
the  place  Avhere  their  manfion  had  flood  ;  but  alas  ! 
110  manfion  was  there.  Faint  and  diipirited,  five  fat 
down  on  a  rock,  and  gave  free  vent  to  die  agony  of 
her  foul. 

"  Do  not  cry  fo,  mother,"  fvJd  the  eldeft  girl,  her 
own  voice  almoft  choked  with  fobs.  "  I  am  very 
hungry,"  laid  a  younger  one. 

"  Oh  !  my  children  !  my  children  !"  cried  the  dif- 
tradted  mother,  "  we  muft  all  perifh  together.  Your 
father  is  no  more  ;  your  mother  has  neither  bread  to 
give  you,  or  whuv  to  flicker  you  from  the  inclemency 
of  the  weather,  unlefs  we  return  to  the  cavern,  and  I 
fear  we  are  too  much  exhaufted  to  reach  even  that  afy- 
lum  aqain  to-nigh;:. 

"  There  is  the  corn-barn,  mother,"  feid  one  of  them, 
"  let  us  go  there."  Arrabella  confented  ;  they  enter- 
ed it,  and  fome  few  grains  of  Indian  coin  being  flut- 
tered here  and  there,  the  children  gathered  them  up, 
and  ate  them  with  avidity.  But  it  was  a  kind  of 
food,  however  faint  and  cxhaufted,  their  mother  could 
not  fwallow.  From  the  ruins  of  the  houfe  they 
brought  part  of  an  earthen  pan  ;  this  they  took  to  the 
fpring,  waftied  it  clean,  and  took  ir  full  of  water  to 
her.  She  drank,  and  was  in  fome  fmall  degiee  re- 
freshed. 

Arrabella  had  it  in  contemplation  to  go  to  Plyra- 
ciith  ;  but  her  own"  increafing  weaknefs,  and  the  ex- 
treme youth  o?  two  of  her' girls,  made  t  the 
idea  as  impracticable;  added  to  which,  in  the  : 
noon  was  a  heavy  tempeft  of  dumder,  lightning,  rait 
and  wind,  which  would  have  made  fuch  a  journey 
almoft  impoffible,  even  in  the  beft  circumftances. 

During  the  whole  night,  the  tempeft  continued  \ 
aid  in  the  moTnii  g  this  unfortunate  toother  Was  fo  re- 
duced by  anguifh  of  heart  and  continued  raftin^, ;  ]  ud 
to  the  damj  looron  which  flic  lay,  which  had 

O  2  give.0 


i5o        REUBEN    axd    RACHEL;  or, 

given  her  a  violent  cold  and  ftiffened  all  her  limbs,  as 
to  find  herfelf  totally  unable  to  rile.  She  firmly  be- 
lieved her  laft  hour  was  ;it  hand,  and  recommending 
her  children  to  the  protection  of  the  Almighty,  ilie 
lay  in  lilent  and  uncomplaining  expectation  or"  termi- 
nating a  lite,  in  which  the  had  enjoyed  a  very  large 
(hare  of  happinefs,  and  which,  deprived  of  its  chief 
comfort  in  the  chofen  friend  and  partner  of  her  heart, 
had  now  no  longer  any  charms  for  her. 

The  elder  girls,  by  fearching  abroad,  had  procured 
fome  little  fuftenance  from  the  fields  and  hedges  ; 
and  this  they  would  have  gladly  fiiared  with  their  fil- 
ters ;  but  alas  !  poor  innocents,  they  were  too  far  ex- 
haufted  to  be  revived  by  the  participation.  They  lay 
on  the  floor  befide  their  mother,  and  a  faint  moan, 
expreffive  of  their  fufferings,  was  the  only  fign  they 
gave  of  exiftence. 

The  third  morning  dawned  from  the  time  of  the 
enemy's  invafion,  and  Mill  no  hope  of  relief  prefented 
itfelf  tc»  the  mind  of  Arrabella  ;  and  indeed  to  fuch  a 
ftate  was  fhe  reduced,  that  hope,  fear,  every  lively  fen- 
timent  was  extinct,  and  a  torpid  defpair  had  taken  en- 
tire poifeflion  of  her  foul. 

Dudley,  from  exceflive  anxiety,  was  fo  very  ill  as 
to  be  unable  to  leave  his  bed.  The  three  boys  were 
ftationary  in  his  chamber  ;  they  hung  over  him,  they 
adminiftered  every  nourifiiment  or  medicine  the  doc- 
tor prefcribed.  Whiift  he  flept,  they  waited  in  trem- 
bling filence,  and  when  he  awoke,  eagerly  ftrove  who 
fhould  receive  his  firft  requeft,  and  fly  to  comply 
"  with  it. 

But  the  old  fervant  and  one  of  the  labourers,  after 
talking  the  matter  over  one  evening,  refolved  upon 
vifiting  the  fcene  of  defolation  the  enfuing  morning,  to 
fee  if  any  thing  worth  prefervation  could  be  found 
amongft  the  ruins.  It  need  hardly  be  mentioned, 
that  in  thofe  early  days,  fuperftition,  (the  natural  at- 
tendant on  ignorant  minds  and  contracted  educations) 
pervaded  the  underitandings  of  almoft  every  clafs  of 
people. 

During 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  151 

During  the  walk  of  old  Philip  and  his  companion, 
from  Plymouth  to  the  domain  of  Dudley,  their  con- 
verfaticn  had  turned  chiefly  011  fpirits,  haunted  houfes, 
and  fupeniatural  appearances  of  ever)  kind.  Thilip 
affirmed,  that  it  was  his  belief,  innocent  blood  was 
never  fpilt,  but  that  the  i'piiit  of  the  departed,  nightly 
vifited  the  ipot  where  it  hid  been  driven  from  its  earthly 
tabernacle,  and  called  for  vengeance  on  the  murderer  ;. 
nor  would  it  be  at  peace  till  that  vengeance  was  exe- 
cuted. "  And  for  my  part,"  continued  he  with  great 
earneftnefs,  his  allonlihed  auditor  (who  not  knowing 
how  to  read  and  write  his  own  name,  looked  upon 
Philip,  who  could,  as  a  wonder  of  learning)  liftening. 
with  aflonifhment,  "for  my  part,  I  would  no  more  go 
to  thefe  ruins  after  funfet,  than  1  would  put  my  hand 
into  a  burning  fire  ;  for  I  have  no  doubt  but  my  poor 
miftrefs  and  her  dear  little  ones — "  And  here  he 
paufed  to  uive  went  to  a  gulh  of  tears,  and  then,  as  if 
thinking  fucli  weaknefs  in  a  man  required  an  excufe, 
he  added,  "  She  was  a  good  millrefs  ;  we  all  loved  her 
like  a  mother-" 

"  Yes,  that  we  did,"  replied  his  companion  ;  "  I  fhall 
never  fee  the  likes  pf  her." 

"  Don't  fay  that,"  replied  Philip  ;  "  I  hope  there  be- 
many  as  good  ;  but  I  am  morally  certain  it  be  an  un- 
poilibility  to  find  a.  better.  But  as  I  was  faying,  I 
dares  to  jay,  (lie  do  walk  over  the  ruins  every  night, 
and  wit!)  her  dear  little  girls.  Oh  !  mercy  on  me, 
what's  that  :     Only  that  it   be  noon-day,    or   I  ihould. 

think " 

"  As  I  am  a  fmncr,"  faid  the  other,  "  I  do  fee  fum- 
mat  as  like  little  Eliza." 

They  Hepped,  they  ga7ed  upon  what  at  the  mo- 
ment they  believed  a  viiion  ;  it  was  the  eldeft  daugh- 
ter of  Dudley,  who,  having  itrayed  toward  the  load 
in  the  hope  of  feeing  fome  human  being,  of  whom  lhe 
might  folicit  help  for  her  dying  mother  and  fillers, 
fhe  faw  Philip  approaching,  and  inftamly  knew  him. 
The  excefs  of  her  joy  had  nearly  proved  fatal  to  her, 
and  ihe  funk  down  amongft  feme  bulhes,  which  in- 

ftantaneoufly 


i52         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ftantanconfly  concealing  her,  the  Ample  clowns  imag- 
ineJ  foe  had  vanifned. 

"Well,  could  not  you  have  fworn  you  faw  her :" 
{kid  Philip. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  the  other,  "  I  would  take 
to/  bible  oath  of  it.'' 

They  had  now  got  nearly  oppofite  the  flirubs  which 
concealed  her.  The  poor  child  had  not  entirely  faint- 
ed ;  bvt  her  languid  frame,  overcome  by  the  hidden 
flood  of  tranfport  that  ruilied  on  her  heart  at  the  fight 
of  a  human  creature,  and  one  fhe  knew,  had  oceafion- 
ed  a  momentary  fufpenfion  of  her  faculties.  She  heard 
their  Heps  as  they  approached  nearer,  and  railing  her- 
i elf  on  her  knees,  cried,  "  Philip,  dear,  good  Philip  !" 
at  the  fame  time  extending  her  hand  towards  him. 

Philip  trembled,  hood  aghaft,  and  ftruggled  for 
breath.  His  companion  covered  his  face  with  his  hat, 
and  fell  on  his  knees.  But  Eliza  foon  diflipated  their 
fears,  by  coming  feebly  towards  them,  again  repeat- 
ing, "  Philip,  dear  Philip  !"  Then  earneftly  clafping 
her  hands,  lhe  added,  "  Come,  come,  and  fu\  c  my 
mother." 

Fearful  conjecture  was  now  loft  in  joyful  certainty. 
"•*  It  is  Eliza  herielf,"  cried  Philip,  catching  her  up  in 
his  arms.  "  She  is  alive  !  Oh  !  thank  God  !  thank 
God  !  And  my  miftrefs  too.  Plow  did  you  efeape 
•the  Indians  ?  Oh  !  this  will  cure  my  mailer  ;  this 
will  make  him  forget  his  other  loifes  ;  they  are  noth- 
ing. A  man  may  build  another  houfe,  but  where 
could  he  find  another  wife  like  my  worthy  madam  Dud- 
ley :" 

They  now,  directed  by  Eli"?.,  had  reached  the  | 
where,  fcarcely  exifting,  lay  the  despairing  Arrabclla. 
One  child  lay  on  her  left  arm,  its  head  relling  on  her 
bofom  ;  another  lay  at  her  feet,  to  all  appearance  in- 
animate ;  a  third  was  feated  at  a  little  diitance,  Sup- 
porting in  her  feeble  arms  a  younger  filler. 

"  O'b  merciful  !"  faid  Philip  ;  ""good  Father,  what's 
here  ?  My  miftrefs  and  my  fweet  little  ladies  all  d\ing. 
Go  run,"  turning  to  lit-  labourer,  "  run  back  to  town, 
tell  th;;n  to  fend  a  cart,   to  fend   victuals  and   drink, 

and 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.  153 

and  a  nurfe  and'  a  doctor,  with  bed  and  a  bedftead, 
and  every  thing.  Good  Sirs,  what  fhall  I  do  ?  Why 
don't  you  run  ?    What  do  you  Hand  for  ?" 

In  this  manner  did  Philip  exclaim,  walking  back- 
ward and  forward  in  wild  diforder  ;  one  moment  flop- 
ping to  gaze  at  the  pale  and  almoft  inanimate  form 
of  Arrabella,  and  the  next  running  from  one  child  to 
the  other,  fometimes  weeping,  ibmetimes  bidding 
them  to  be  hearty,  and  frequently  fearching  his  pock- 
ets, as  though  he  could  in  them  find  lbmething  to  fat- 
ls£y  their  hunger. 

Extreme  fcnfibility  is  often  not  only  painful  to  the 
poffefTor,  but  prejudicial  to  thofe  whom  we  may  wifh 
to  ferve.  Philip,  with  a  foul  exquifitely  formed  to 
dictate  all  the  foft  offices  of  humanity,  was  not  fo  ca- 
pable of  rendering  a  real  fervice  to  his  dillrelfed  mif- 
trefs,  as  was  the  labourer,  who,  Amply  comprehend- 
ing the  neceffily  of  immediate  relief  being  obtained, 
exerted  his  utmoft  fpecd  to  return  to  Plymouth,  where, 
explaining  the  nature  and  urgency  of  his  errand,  a 
fiiort  time  only  elapfed  before,  with  an  eafy  convey- 
ance, reftorative  cordials,  and  feveral  women,  he  again 
reached  die  defolated  manfion  of  Dudley. 

The  meeting  between  Arrabella,  her  hufband  and 
children,  was  too  pathetic  to  admit  of  description. 
The  joy  fuch  an  unexpected  meeting  occafioned,  would 
have  been  too  exquifite  for  human  nature  to  fuppOrt, 
had  it  not  been  allayed  by  die  certainty  that  William 
and  Rachel  were  loft  beyond  hope  of  recovery.  With 
hearts  overflowing  with  tranfport,  tliey  bleffed  God 
that  eight  of  their  children  were  living;  and  though 
they  acutely  felt  the  lofs  of  two,  yet  gratitude  tem- 
pered affliction,  and  prevented  their  opining  at  the 
decrees  of  Him,  whole  judgments  ever  go  hand  in-. 
hand  with  his  mercies. 

When  Dudley's  health  was  in  fome  meafure  reftor- 
ed,  he  began  to  think  of  preparing  another  habitation 
before  the  approach  of  winter;  but  no  perfhafion 
coidd  prevail  on  him  to  fuffer  another  home  to  be 
erected  on  the  fpot  where  tic  had  formerly  lived,  I  .  > 
byen  took  a  diflikc  to  the  whole  colony  of  Ncw-K  «mp- 

(hirei. 


154       REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

(hire,  and  felling  his  lands,  lie  joined  a  number  of  perr 
ions,  at  that  time  about  to  m.ike  a  fettlemcnt  at  Cat- 
co-Bay. 

It  was  in  vain  Arrabella  reprefented  to  him  the  dif- 
ficulty of  clearing  and  cultivating  a  new  ipot  ;  his 
mind  had  never  regained  its  rirmnefs  after  the  iliock 
it  had  received,  and  he  periifted  in  removing,  from 
the  bofom  of  his  friends,  to  an  uncultivated  wildernef?.. 
But  Arrabella  was  no  longer  in  her  prime.  The 
brilliant  genius  and  indufhious  hands  which  had  con- 
tributed to  improve  and  emhelliih  their  former  dwell- 
ing, debilitated  by  ficknefs  and  ibrrow,  had  funk  into 
inanity. 

For  fifteen  years,  Dudley  and  his  wife  fuffcred  al- 
mofl  every  fpecies  of  affliction  which  human  nature 
can  endure  and  live.  The  throat-diftemper  raged, 
and  in  ten  days  fwept  off  all  their  children;  the  cold 
Arrabella  had  contracted  in  the  cavern,  and  fleeping 
on  the  damp  floor  of  the  corn-barn,  had  given  her  a 
rheumatic  complaint,  which  often  confined  her  eight 
months  out  of  the  twelve.  Dudley  fought,  in  the  fo- 
piety  of  his  neighbours,  a  relief  from  reflection  ; 
his  intellectual  faculties  were  fo  weakened,  that  he 
becangte  the  dupe  of  the  artful  or  avaricious, 
and  his  fiftieth  birth-day  beheld  him  poor  in  purfc, 
deprelfed  in  fpirit,  and  devoid  of  health. 

"And  if  virtue,  piety  and   integrity  axe  thus   over- 
whelmed with    mifery,"  (aiks  the    man  who  proi 
infidelity)  "  who  can  believe  in  an  over-ruling  P« 
wlio  puniihes  the  evil  doer,  and  rewards  the  good  ac- 
cording to  their  works  ?" 

"  All  muit,  all  do,  who  do  not  wilfully  harden  their 
hearts,  and  fiiut  their  eyes  againft  the  light  of  Heav- 
en," replies  the  humbly  hoping  Chriftian  ;  "  for  as 
the  manfionofan  earthly  king  is  adorned  by  goldfev- 
en  times  tried,  filver  purified  by  fire,  and  precious 
ftoncs,  which,  ere  they  attain  a  proper  brilliancy, 
mull  fubmit  to  the  knife,  the  faw,  or  duffel  of  the  ar- 
U'.l  ;  in  mull  thoic  i'  ined  to  fiiine  in  the  ever- 

lalting  manfion  of  the  King  of  kings,  pals  through  the 

fieri 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  155 

fiery  ordeal  of  affliction,  be  purified,  and  polifhed  by 
the  correcting  finger  of  the  great  Source  and  Firll 
Caufe  of  all  fymmetry  and  beauty." 

•■<  •<■<•<  «4^4*^^^' ■■> ■•> ■>■  > ■■ 

CHAP.       XVIII. 

William  and  Rachel. 

N  the  year  1674,  the  war  between  the  native  Amer- 
icans and  the  European  fettlers  raged  with  un- 
common fury.  William  Dudley,  who  had,  with  his 
little  filter,  been  carried  into  captivity  in  1661,  had 
now  become  a  perfonage  of  great  confequence  amongft 
them.  Otooganoo,  the  fachem  to  whom  he  had  been 
prefented,  poifefling  talents  naturally  good,  and  thirft- 
ing  for  knowledge,  yet  unable  to  attain  it,  foon  learnt, 
from  his  converfations  with  William,  that  he  could  in 
fome  meafure  gratify  this  very  laudable  do  fire  to  be 
inftrudted.  William,  though  young,  had,  by  atten- 
tion to  the  documents  of  his  father  and  the  milder  in- 
ftructions  of  his  mother,  obtained  a  very  decent  knowl- 
edge of  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  geography  and 
hiilory. 

Otooganoo  no  fooner  made  this  difcovery,  than 
William  became  to  him  the  mod  valuable  thing  he 
poilcfTed.  "  I  will  certainly  reftorc  him  to  his  Euro- 
pean friends,"  laid  he,  "  but  he  (hall  fii  ft  teach  me  all 
he  knows.  In  the  mean  time,  1  will  be  kind  to  him, 
nor  fhall  his  little  filler  ever  want  a  friend  or  protec- 
tor ;  as  foon  as  he  has  imparted  to  me  his  ftock  of 
knowledge,  I  will  certainly  fend  him  to   his  friends." 

Thus  argued  Otooganoo.  But,  alas !  human  na- 
ture will  be  human  nature  ;  and  when  the  period  ar- 
rived that  he  had  gleaned  all  the  knowledge  poor 
William  had  to  impart,  his  heart  was  fq  attached  to 
him,  his  fociety  had  afforded  him  fo  many  days, 
months,  years  of  real  felicity,  that  he  made  to  his  own 
confeience  daily  frefh  excufes  for  not  fending  him  from 
him, 

William 


t56         REUBEN    anb    RACHELj  or, 

William  himfelf,  though  he  frequently  fpoke  of 
them,  and  exploited  a  wiih  to  fee  his  parents,  no  lcn- 
ger  felt  that  ardent  delire  to  return  to  them,  which  he 
experienced  in  the  early  days  of  his  captivity.  He 
had  become  infenfibly  attached  to  Otooganoo ;  and 
as,  from  the  effecls  of  his  inftruclions,  his  protector  had 
made  rapid  advances  towards  civilization,  had  entirely 
loft  his  natural  ferocity,  and  attained  fuch  a  degree  of 
rational  information  as  made  him  a  .pleafant  compan- 
ion, William  felt  that  attachment  daily  increafe. 

Otooganoo  had  a  daughter.  Oberea  was  full  five 
years  younger  than  William  ;  fhe  was  tall,  ftraight, 
and  finely  formed.  She  was,  at  the  time  of  his  ar- 
rival amongft  them,  a  lively  girl  of  ten  years  old, 
wihl  as  the  rein-deer,  that  with  fleet  rteps  bounds 
over  the  frozen  plains  of  Lapland,  and  untutored  as 
it  is  pofliblc  for  a  human  being  to  be.  Her  looks,  her 
words,  her  actions,  were  the  genuine  impulfcs  of  na- 
ture. 

As  the  little  Rachel  increafed  "in  years,  it  was  the 
employment  of  her  brother's  leifure  hours,  to  inftruct 
her  in  the  Englifh  language  in  the  beft  manner  pofli- 
ble.  The  book  he  had  with  "him,  on  the  morning  of 
his  capture,  was  of  infinite  afliftance  to  him,  as  by 
looking  at  that,  he  was  enabled  to  form  a  very  tolerable 
alphabet  upon  bark,  tiling  f<me  of  their  ftrong  dye  in- 
ftead  of  ink  ;  and  this  alphabet  ferved. alike,  Otooga- 
noo, Rachel  and  Oberea,  who  delighted  in  partaking 
their  leffons,  and  profited  daily  by  his  inftruclions. 

Educated  under  the  immediate  eye  of  a  woman  like 
Arrabella,  it  may  naturally  be  fuppofed,  William, 
though  young,  hud  imbibed  very  ftrong  and  juft  ideas 
of  female  delicacy  and  decorum,  and  thefe  ideas  he 
laboured  inceflantly  to  imprefs  on  the  mind  of  his 
filler.  Oberea  liftcned  attentively,  and  trca'ured  every 
■ientence  he  uttered  in  her  heart.  She  had  heard  him 
tell  his  filter,  that  his  country-women  were  the  moft 
charming  women  in  the  world,  and  Oberea  eaily  foim- 
«d  the  wiih  of  being  thought  charming  in  the  eyes  of 
William.  This  wiih  was  a  powerful  talifman  to  cor- 
ied  the  bad  cifc&s  of  habit,  and  at  the  age  of  feven- 

tcen, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         157 

teen,  Hie  was  fo  much  fuperior  in  manner  to  her  un- 
civilized affociates,  that  William,  without  being  aware 
of  it,  adored  the  lovely  ftatue  his  art  had  animated. 

He  was  not  fenfible  of  the  excefs  of  his  tendernefs 
for  the  charming  Indian,  till  an  accident,  by  nearly 
depriving  him  of  her,  convinced  him  at  once  how  ne- 
cellary  fhe  was  to  his  happinefs.  Some  Indians,  who 
dwelt  in  the  town  with  them,  having  by  traffic  with 
the  Europeans,  who  inhabited  the  fea-coafts,  procur- 
ed two  or  three  mufquets,  one  was  brought  and  pre- 
fented  to  Otooganoo,  who  being  mightily  pleafed  with 
the  prcfent,  loaded  it,  with  a  defign  of  going  out  in 
•purfuit  of  game  ;  but  not  putting  his  defign  in  imme- 
diate execution,  it  was  left  (landing  in  one  corner  of 
the  wigwam.  A  young  lavage,  particularly  attached 
to  Oberea,  took  it  up  to  examine  it,  and  not  under- 
ltanding  how  to  handle  it  properly,  touched  the  trig- 
ger. It  went  off,  and  the  contents  were  lodged  in 
the  right  fide  of  Oberea. 

William  heard  the  report,  and  the  inftant  cries  of 
his  lifter ;  he  flew  to  them,  and  entering,  faw  both  his 
lifter  and  her  he  now  found  he  loved  equal  with  her, 
lying  on  the  ground,  which  was  covered  with  blood. 
The  young  man,  frantic  at  what  had  happened,  told 
what  he  had  done,  and  that  lie  flared  he  had  killed 
both  the  girls  ;  but  Rachel's  fill  was  the  effect  of-fad- 
den  furprife,  and  it  was  fooh  difcovered  fhe  was  not 
in  the  leaft  hurt.  But  Oberea  wounded,  to  all  ap- 
pearance dying,  was  an  object  diftracting  to  William. 
He  railed  her  in  his  arms,  called  aloud  for  help,  and 
having  afliftcd  his  fifter  and  an  old  fquaw,  to  ftaunch 
the  blood,  and  bind  up  the  wounds,  which  were  chief- 
ly in  the  flefhy  part  bf  the  arm,  and  having  feen  her 
open  her  eyes,  and  figh  to  him  that  fhe  knew  him,  he 
walked  backwards  and  forwards,  watching  her  as  fhe 
dozed,  icmetimes  applying  a  feather  to  her  mouth  to 
he  fatistied  Ihe  ftill  breathed,  and  often  kneeling  down 
to  kifs  her  hand,  which  lay  motionlefs  on  the  outfide 
of  the  bed. 

Otooganoo,    during   the    time   fhe  was  thought  in 

danger,  obferved  the  extreme  folicitude   of  William, 

1*  ani 


i58  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

and  when  ilic  was  perfectly  recovered,  thus  addrefTed 
mm.  "  You  have  been  to  rae,  young  Englishman,  a 
irienJ,  a  companion,  an  inftructor,  now  above  eight 
years.  I  love  you  with  iincerity,  and  I  believe  you 
love  me." 

"  Do  you  doubt  ?"  allced  William  eagerly. 

"No,  I  do  not  for  a  moment  doubt  your  fincerity, 
Lut  I  have  alio  difcovered  that  you  love  my  daugh. 
ter.  Your  couniels  and  inftructions  have  rendered  iicr 
unfit  to  match  with  any  of  her  own  countrymen  ;  you 
are  now  almofl  become  one  of  as  ;  take  her,  then,  to 
wife  ;  and  when  age,  infirmity  or  death  ihall  occafion 
me  to  ceafe  from  the  cares  of  life,  {"apply  my  place, 
govern  my  people,  direct  them  by  your  wifdom,  teach 
them  the  real  value  of  well-conftructed  laws,  encour- 
age them  in  ftudying  the  arts  of  war  ;  yet  lead  them, 
by  your  example  and  forbearance,  to  cultivate  a  focial 
and  commercial  intercourfe,  and  to  preferve  -peace 
with  your  countrymen,  who  are  become  their  neigh- 
bours, as  long  as   they  can   preferve  it   with  honour." 

■William,  weaned  from  his  natural  friends,  tenderly 
attached  to  Oberea,  perhaps  not  altogether  infenfible 
to  the  charms  of  power,  and  harbouring  a  fond  hope, 
that  by  this  union  with  the  family  of  a  fachem,  he 
Blight  promote  the  interefts  of  his  countrymen  in  gen- 
eral, and  be  the  cement  to  bind  them  in  bonds  of  Tail- 
ing amity,  lillened  with  delighted  attention,  plighted 
his  vows  of  love  and  conftancy  to  Otooganoo,  and  in 
a  few  days  ratified  thoi'e  vows,  by  binding  himfelf,  by 
the  molt  Vacred  of  all  ties,  to  protect  and  love  through 
life  his  charming  Oberea. 

Otooganoo  lived  to  fee  his  (bn-hvlaw  equally  belov- 
ed and  refpected  with  himfelf,  to  embrace  a  grandfon 
whom  William  called  Reuben  :  «  For,"  faid  he,  "  I 
have  been  a  bondman  and  a  fervant  unto  my  wife's 
father,  and  this  my  fir  ft  born  lhall  pay  my  ranfom." 
As  the  old  fachem  felt  his  hour  approaching,  he 
called  his  chiefs,  and  the  olden  men  of  his  tribe,  about 
him;  and  taking  the  little  Reuben  in  bis  arms,  win  ill 
Oberea,  William  and  Rich*!  ftocd  00  his  light  hand, 

rim.,  addrefled  them  ; 

"  Warriors 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  159 

i*  Warriors  and  Chiefs,  Natives  and  undoubted 
Lords  of  this  vail  country,  Men  to  your  departing 
father.  I  have  ruled  over  you  now  above  forty  years  ; 
I  have  ever  found  you  obedient  to  my  commands,  and 
affectionate  to  my  family.  But  the  great  Spirit  whole 
throne  is  on  the  loftieft  mountain,  and  whofe  breath 
patting  over  the  great  lake,  can  make  it  rage  even  as 
the  wild  tyger,  when,  fuddenly  fpringing  from  his  fe- 
cret  hiding-place,  he  tears  and  mangles  his  dcfer.cclefs 
prey  ;  or  foftly  moving  over'  its  broad  furiacr,  ren- 
ders it  fmooth,  beautiful  and  enticing  as  is  the  tyren, 
who  charms  but  to  deftroy  ;  this  wondrous,  mcom- 
prchenfible  Spirit,  who  gave  me  life  and  motion,  re- 
cals  the  precious  gift,  and  in  a  inert  time  I  lhall  be 
dull." 

Otooganoo  paufed  ;  his  whole   foul  was   filled  with 
Che  fublimity  of  the   BEING   of  whom  he  had   been 
fpeaking,  and  a  moment  was  given  to  feelitl 
fcxprdlion   cxmiifite.     Recovering   the  urmi.efs  oi  his 
voice,  he  thus  proceeded  : 

"  Ericnds,  Countrymen,  CWldren,  had  I  a  ion,  I 
well  know  your  unanimous  confent  would  nominate 
him  my  fucceilbr.  I>ehold.  rliet^  £j  ^.-  ,.;'  1VJ 
clioice,  the  friend  of  my  foul,  the  hufband  of  my 
daughter.  He  is  brave,  he  is  wife,  he  is  humane  ! 
alike  competent  to  profecutc  war  with  vigour,  or  pre- 
ferve  peace  with  honour.  He  is,  you  will  fay,  a 
fon  of  our  invaders,  of  our  common  enemy.  But 
confider  them  as  enemies  no  longer.  "C-ary  the  war- 
hatchet  twenty  feet  under  ground,  and  ffnoke  the 
great  pipe  of  peace,  whole  fragrance  n.«iy  afcend  even 
to  the  heaven  of  heavens.  Hail  thefc  Europeans  as 
brethren,  and  follow  henceforth  their  precept  of  doing 
as  you  would  be  done  by." 

"  We  will  !  we  will  !"  they  all  exclaimed  ;  when 
Otooganoo  thus  continued  : 

"  Chiefs,  Elders  and  brother  Warriors,  in  recom- 
mending to  your  choice  this  young  man,  I  mean  not 
to  relinquilh  the  affection  you  have  ever  Ihown  my 
family.  No.  Behold  this  child,  the  fon  of  my  daugh- 
ter j  la  ham  you  fee  your  rightful  fachem.     But  I  am 

palling 


i6q        REUBEN   and    RACHEL;  or,. 

parting  from  this  world  to  the  land  of  fpirits,  and' tin', 
infant  is  incompetent  to  fupply  my  place.     Who  then 
fo  able,  who  fo  worthy  as  his  father,  to  govern  and  di- 
•nd  Inftrucl  the  young  fachem  how  to  guard 
liberties,  and  prcferve  your  love  inviolate." 
OtoOgano  ccafed,  and  an  old  warrior  thus  replied  : 
"  The  offspring  of  Otoogahoo.  the  fon  of  Oherea,  will 
'-■  ;r  be  honoured  and  refpectad.     We  arc  content  to 
receive,  during  his  childhood,   the.  Engliihman    Will- 
iam, and  to  adopt  the  new  faidi  thou  hail  lately  taught 
and  pniclifci.      As  '.ho  Europeans  deal    by  us,  fo  deal 
we  by  them,  and  the  great  Spirit  judge  us  both." 
Otooganoo  furvived  this  conference  but  a  few  days  ; 
ifled  (to  ufe  his  own  expreffion)   to  the  land  of 
fpirits,  ;  ad  William  Dudley  was  chofen  fachem  in  his 
ftea  :,  bj  the  unanimous  voice  i  1  the  whole  tribe. 

'•  As  the  ai    fo  deal  we  by  them, 

..  '  .  le  great  Spirit  judge  us  Loth."  This  was  the 
oath  they  took,  and  molt  religioufly  did  they  keep  it. 
But  if  the  profeflbrs  of  Chriilianity  practife  not  them- 
felves  what  they  would  teach  to  others,  who  can  blame 
the  lavage,  who  (in  feeking  his  own  gratification,  or 
promoting  his  own  interefl,  regards  not  the  happinefs 
or  interefl  of  a  fellow  creature)  follows  but  the  cxan> 
pie  fet  him  ? 

The  new  fettlers  made  daily  encroachments  on  the 
native  inhabitants,  drove  them  from  their  lands,  rob- 
bed them  of  their  wives,  and  made  their  children  pris- 
oners. Was  it  in  human  nature  to  bear  thefe  injuries 
tamely  ?  No  ;  they  relented  them.  And  even  Will- 
iam h'mfelf,  »hough  his  heart  bled  at  what  mud  be 
the  confequence,  could  not  attempt  to  repel  the  fpirit  of" 
juft  vengeance  that  actuated  the  minds  of  all.  War 
was  declared  on  both  fides,  and  purfued  with  unre- 
mitting fury. 

Amongit  the  young  warriors  that  lived  under  "the 
government  of  William,  was  Yankoo.  He  was  intrep- 
id, bold,  and  daring.  He  hated  the  Europeans  ;  yet,, 
fpite  of  that  hate  which  feemed  inherent  in  his  nature, 
his  heart  was  fufceptible  of  tendernefs  for  one  of  the 
race.     The  beauty  of  Rachel  had  penetrated  his  foul. 

H& 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  r6i 

He  loved,   revealed   his   love,   and  found   it   was   re- 
turned. 

The  war  continuing  to  rage,  it  became  nece.Tary 
for  the  fachem  in  perlbn  to  quit  his  home,  and  head  his 
warriors.  The  undaunted  Oberea  would  follow  her 
hufband  to  the  field,  and  Rachel,  though  naturally 
more  timid,  yet  having  her  nerves  ncw-fbung  by  af- 
fection, accompanied  her.  They  encamped  near  the 
fea-fnore.  By  the  morning's  dawn  they  expected  the 
enemy. 

Yankoo  pa/Ted  a  few  hours  the  preceding  evening 
in  the  wigwam  of  Oberea.  "  Oh  !  my  friend,"  faid 
Rachel,  as  fhe  was  parting  from  him,  "  be  careful  of 
your  own  life  for  my  fake  ;  and  if  at  any  time  your 
tomahawk  ihouid  be  raised  againftan  ancient  English- 
man, paufe  for  .t  moment,  and  think,  perhaps  it  may 
be  the  father  of  Rachel,  and  let  the  idea  dilarm  your 
rage." 

"  It  would   do  fo,"  replied  Yankoo,  "  did  T  r 
,the  fame  time   rememfc'r,   that  every   Englishman   U 
the  enemy  of  my  country." 

"  Would  you  not  fpare  my  father  tlien  f*  {aid  Ra- 
chel. 

"  No  !  not  even  my  own  father  in  fnch  a  canfe,"  an- 
fwered    the   warrior,    and  her   embrace. 

Rachel  retired   to  her  bed,  |    in 

tear:;. 


C  H  A  P.      XIX. 
ifer  xvu  at  hj— Reuben  and  R, 

THE  Gtuation  or  feelings  of  William  Dudley  were 
at  this  period  by  no  means  enviable.  'Ruler 
over  a  nation  of  favages,  who  by  their  attaci 
and  fidelity  had  conciliated  his  affectiofi,  his  principles 
would  by  no  means  iufFer  him  to  defert  their  caufe  in 
the  hour  of  danger  ;  yet  remembering  that  his  n 
parents  were  Europeans,  and  the  tendetnefs  he  r  nee 
™  l  experienced 


16a         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

experienced  for  them  not  being  extinct  in  his  bofc ill 
he  felt  his  heart  divided  between  two  feparate  intercfts  'r 
and  if  at  any  time  a  fkirmiih  took  place,  he  would 
think  that,  perhaps,  amongft  the  killed  or  wounded  of 
the  enemy,  he  might  have  to  lament  a  father  or  a 
brother.  And  whilst;  he  was  publickly  obliged  to  ap- 
pear rejoiced  at  the  fuccefs  of  the  Indians,  he  would 
privately  lament  the  defeat  of  his  own  countrymen. 

The  foul  of  Rachel  was  equally  agitated.  Alas  ! 
who  can  defcribe  the  feelings  of  a  heart  thus  divided  i 
She  dared  not  pray,  for  to  which  party  could  fhe  wilh 
fuccefs  ?  "  Oh  !  fave,  protect  and  fupportmy  father," 
Ihe  would  cry  ;  then  in  a  moment  recollecting,  (he 
would  wring  her  hands  and  cry,  "  Oh  !  poor  Yan- 
koo/r  It  is  anguilh  only  to  be  felt,  it  is  impoffiblc  to 
convey  the  fmalleft  idea  of  its  excruciating  tortures, 
to  any  who  have  not  experienced  the  agonising  effects 
of  divided  affection. 

The  Engliih  had  been  driven  to  the  very  borders  of 
the  fea  ;  the  Indians  had  purfued  them  with  unremit- 
ting fury,  ravaging  the  habitations,  and,  giving  the 
Unoffending  inmates  a  quick  paffport  to  eternal  reft: 
with  their  tomahawks,  nor  command  nor  entreaty 
could  reftrain  their  impetuofity. 

William  had  followed  a  party  led  by  Yankoo,  to  a 
houfe  fituated  in  a  deep  wood.  As  they  approached, 
a  cry  of  terror  iffued  from  the  dwelling.  The  heart 
of  William  throbbed  with  anxiety;  he  quickened  his 
fteps,  and  arrived  at  the  door  jure  as  Yankco  had 
dragged  forth  by  his  venerable  locks,  a  man,  whom 
he  no  fooner  beheld  than  he  recognized  the  features  of 
his  father.  The  arm  was  railed  that  was  meant  to  de- 
lcroyhim. 

"Hold,  moniter  !  barbarian  f"  exclaimed  William, 
and  throwing  himfelf  on  the  body  of  his  father,  receiv- 
ed the  falling  weapon  on  his  own  fhoulder.  It  fell 
heavy,  it  funk  deep,  and  the  blood  iflued  in  a  torrent 
from  the  wound. 

Yankoo  recoiled  with  horror ;  he  beheld  his  ruler, 
his  friend,  and  more  than  thofe,  the  brother  of  Rachel, 
weltering  in  gore,  wounded  even  unto  death,  and  by 

his 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  163 

his  hand.  He  knelt  upon  the  ground,  he  took  his 
hand.  "  Oh  1  brave  warrior,"  (aid  he,  "why  did 
you  throw  yourfelf  in  my  way  V"  William  raifedhim- 
felf,  and  pointing  to  eld  Mr.  Dudley,  cried,  "To  fave 
a  father." 

The  old  gentleman,  in  f<  me  mcafurc  relieved  from 
his  fright,  endeavoured  to  rile  from  the  earth  ;  but 
hearing  the  etpreflion  of  father  from  the  lips  of  one 
whom  he  fappofed  an  Indian  chief,  the  truth  began 
to  dawn  upon  his  mind.  He  knelt  beiide  the  dying 
fachem,  and  taking  his  hand,  looked,  earneftly  in  his 
face,  and  cried,  "  Is  it  indeed  poifible  ?  are  you  my 
fon  ?" 

"  Your  own  fon  William,"  replied  the  bleeding 
warrior. 

"  But  alas!"  laid  the  old  man,  "you  arc,  I  fear, 
mortally  wounded." 

"  And  if  I  am,"  replied  die  heroic  William,  "  it  is 
a  glorious  wound  ;  for  I  give  my  life  to  prefervc  the 
life  of  him  from  whom  I  received  it." 

As  he  hnifhed  thefe  words,  he  fell  back  and  his  eyes 
clofed.  The  whole  party  were  now  aifembled  round 
their  wounded  chief  ;  they  railed  him  from  the  earth, 
and  bore  him  into  his  fathers  cottage,  where,  confin- 
ed by  infirmity,  was  the  unfortunate  patient  Arrabella. 
She  had  heard  the  exclamations  of  her  hufband  ;  hei 
heart  had  not  yet  become  callous  to  mi  ("cry.  The  be- 
holding her  long-loft  fon,  was  double  agony,  fmce  fhe 
but  beheld  his  elefmg  fcene.  He  recovered  a  rti(  ment 
after  they  had  laid  him  on  the  bed,  gazed  on  the  coun- 
tenance of  his  mother,  faintly  articulated  her  name, 
and  his  laft  breath  pa/Ted  in  imploring  a  hleffing  on 
her. 

The  news  of  their  fachem's  death,  and  by  whom, 
foon  reached  the  tribe  William  had  governed,  and 
they  repaired  to  the  place  of  his  deceafe,  vowing  re- 
venge on  his  murderer  ;  for  in  that  light  they  looked 
upon  Yankoo.  But  when  they  ruined  furioufly  into 
the  houfe,  intending  to  wreak  their  vengeance  en  I  'm, 
the  mute  forrow  depicted  on  his  lace,  as  with  his  arms 
folded  on  his  bofoni  he  ftood  contemplating  the  man- 

gled 


i5i         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

gled  f(  rrri  of  his  departed  friend,  foi"  a  moment  dif- 
armed  their  rage.  He  raw  them  enter,  and  advan- 
cing intrepidly  towards  them, 

"  Friends,  Countrymen,  and  hrother  Warriors,"' 
laid  he,  with  a  firm  voice,  "  that  I  have  incurred  ycm* 
hatred,  that  your  rage  is  juftly  excited,  is  a  truth  I 
pretend  not  to  evade  or  deny.  I  have  deferved  death 
at  your  hands,  and  bclvud,  here  I  (land  prepared  to 
meet  it.  Strike  ;  I  will  not  flinch  ;  or  lead  me  forth, 
and  let  me  experience  the  mofr.  cruel  tortures,  I  will 
not  complain  ;  nor  f:gh  nor  groan  fliall  efcape  my  lips. 
Alas  !  if  torture  could  wring  them  from  me,  how 
loud  would  my  lamentations  now  be  !  The  chief 
whom  we  all  loved,  the  man  we  all  revered,  is  gone 
to  the  land  of  fpirits;  is  gone  to  that  Father,  that 
great  Fir!}.  Cklife,  of  whom  we  have  fo  often  heard 
him  {peak.  He  is  pafled  from  us,  and  my  hand  gave 
the  paflport,  fgning  it  with  his  blood." 

He  paufed,  and  his  untamed  fpirit  {"welled  even  to 
his  eyes  ;  but  he  repelled  the  tokens  of  his  fenfibility,, 
that  were  almeft  burfting  from  the  gliitening  orbits, 
and  ftrdggling  for  a  moment  to  recover  the  firmnefs. 
of  his  voice,  proceeded  : 

'*  Thou  art  gone,  brave  chief !  (turning  as  he  fpoke 
towards  the  body  of  his  friend)  thou  art  gone  ;  and 
Adhere  fhall  thy  eotual  be  found  to  fupply  thy  place  ? 
Then  wert  bold  and  daring  as  the  young  lion,  and  like 
him,  generous  and  ncble,  exerted  not  thy  power  againll 
the  feeble  and  defenceless.  Firm  and  unfliaken  in  af- 
ferting  the  rights  cf  innocence,  as  the  mountain  whofe 
foundation  is  in  the  centre  of  the  earth,  and  whofe  top 
reacheth  unto  the  clouds  \  yet  gentle  as  the  fouth-welk 
breeze  en  an.  evening  in  the  bloffom  leafon,  and  com- 
plying as  the  willow,  that  inclines  its  head  as  the 
breeze  palfes.  Thy  voice  was  the  voice  of  wifdom. 
Thy  words  taught  lclfons,  which  thy  example  enforced. 
But  thou  art  gone  \  and  where  (hall  thy  equal  be 
found  to  fupply  thy  place  ?  Thou  wert  glorious  as 
the  fun  at  his  uprifing,  mild  and  beautiful  as  the  beams 
of  the  moon,  when  it  dances  on  the  bofom  of  the  lake 
which  the  wind  gently  agitates.     In  the  chafe,  fleet 

as 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  165 

as  tlie  young  ftag,  and  the  arrow  from  thy  bow  never 
miffed  its  aim.  Thou  didft  fpeak,  and  none  could  re- 
O  believe  ;  thou  didft  command,  and  none  bat 
were  eager  to  obey.  The  bad  loved,  whilft  they  rear- 
ed thee  ;  the  good  adored,  and  endeavoured  to  imitate 
thee.  Under  thy  wife  government  we  refted  in  peace, 
on  m.itts  made  of  ofiers  ;  our  wigwams  were  improv- 
ed, our  bows  better  ftrung,  our  corn  was  multiplied 
an  hundred  fold,  and  our  (kins  dried  with  more  care. 
In  peace  thou  wert  as  the  dew  of  the  evening,  rditfli- 
ing  and  invigorating  all  who  lived  beneath  thy  influ- 
ence ;  and  in  war  terrible  as  the  tempeft  that  breaks 
the  tali  pine,  roots  up  the  ftubborn  oak,  and  mates  the 
foreft  tremble, as  it  mints  with  tremendous  fury  through 
it.  Thy  enemies  beheld  thee,  and  fear  (hook  their 
fouls ;  thou  wert  the  father  of  thy  people,  Oh  !  val- 
iant fachem.  l>ut  thou  art  gone — by  my  hand  ; 
and  where  llu.ll  thy  equal  be  found  to  fur  ply  thy 
place  ?" 

The  numerous  affecting  images  he  had  called  to- 
gether, whilft  1  the  eulogium  of  the  deeeafed, 
had  now  awakened  feelings  too  powerful  to  be  repreff- 
ed.  The  afflictions  of  his  heart  burft  forth  in  loud 
lamentations.  The  rage  of  his  countrymen  was  to- 
tally fubdued.  They  dropped  their  tomahawks,  and 
joined  him  in  piercing  cries  and  groans,  repeating  at 
intervals,  "  Our  chief,  our  warrior,  our  friend  is  gone, 
and  who  can  fupply  his  place  ?'* 

Arrabella  had  not  lived  fo  n.any  years  in  the  very 
bofom  of  America,  at  different  times  obliged  to  have 
fame  kind  of  intercourfe  with  the  natives,  without  at- 
taining a  confiderable  knowledge  of  their  language". 
She  liitened  whilft  Yankoo  was  {peaking,  and  a->  lie  enu- 
merated the  virtues  of  her  fon,  the  felt  that,  amongfl  the 
tears  of  regret  that  fell  for  his  death,  were  feme  of 
exultation  that  he  had  deferved  fuch  an  eulogium,  and 
her  heart  was  cbnfoled. 

But  who  can  paint  the  anguilh,  the  diftrefs  cC  Ra- 
chel, or  the  difiraftion  of  Oberea?  When  they  heard 
the  fatal  tidings,  they  fought  the  body  6f  their  liluf- 
bwid,  Brother,, Chief.     Bttt  here  hot \teart,' •  nor  cries 

declared 


166        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

declared  their  forrow.     When  the  foul  is  too  full,  lan- 
is  oT  little  ui'e.     There  are  no  words  capable  of 
expreffing  real  affliction. 

Oberea  led  her  fon  Reuben  (now  nearly  fix  years 
old)  to  the  bed  on  which  lay  the  corfc  of  his  father, 
and  pointing  to  the  body,  pronounced  in  a  tone  deeply 
mournful,  "  Behold  !"  ' 

"  My  father  !"  laid  the  boy,  audi  terrified  at  his 
ghaftly  appearance,  clafped  his  arms  round  his  moth- 
er, and  hid  his  face  in  her  bofom.-  She  feated  her- 
fisll  on  the  fide  of  the  bed,  folded  her  arms  round  her 
child,  and  rcfting  her  head  on  his  ihoulder,  appeared' 
the  mute  image  of  defpair. 

The  feelings  of  Rachel  would  have  been  equally 
poignant,  had  they  not  been  directed  to  another  chan-' 
nel.  She  had,  as  lhe  entered  the  apartment,  faintly 
articulated  the  word  brother.-  Arrabella  caught  the 
found,  and  calling  her  daughter  by  name,  Rachel  was 
lolded  in  a  moment  to  her  bofom,  and  in  the  embrace 
of  a  new  found  mother,  felt  a  relief  from  her  forrows. 
Dudley  killed  his  daughter  with  tendernefs,  but  the 
lively  affection  he  had  once  experienced  towards  his 
children  was  now  almoft  extinct.  It  had  indeed  for  a^ 
moment  revived  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  William, 
but  the  icy  ringer  ofdeath  had  filenced  that  voice  for- 
ever,  and  the  heart  of  Dudley  could  no  more  vibrate 
with  the  exquifite  delights  fpringing  from  paternal 
love. 

By  the  united  effor-s  of  Rachel  and  Arrabella,  Obe- 
rea  was  at  lafl  aroufed  from  that  ftate  of  apparent' 
jnfenfibility  into  which  (he  had  fallen,  Rachel  rcleaf- 
itd'  h!er  arms  from  the  neck  of  her  child,  and  drew 
hu-  gentlj  towards  her  mother,  who  foothed,  carciied, 
and  called  her  her  dear  daughter,  the  relic  of  her  be- 
lov.J  William. 

At  the  name  of  William,  fiie  ftarted.  Arrabella 
perceived  ilie  had  awakened  her  attention,  and  from 
her  own  fon,  made  a  quick  transition  to  the  fon  of 
Oberea.  .She  begged  her  to  call  forth  her  fortitude, 
to  Cjtcrt  '-h-.  faculties  of  her  mind,  and   as  the  loved 

hci 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  167 

her  hufband,  for  his  fake,  live,   to  protett  and  inftruot 
his  fon. 

"  I  am  his  mother,"  faid  (he  ;  "  have  I  not  reafon 
to  lament  the  lofs  of  a  fon  10  vorthy  ?  But  that  he 
avas  worthy  is  my  comfort..  Had  he  not  a  thonfond 
Viftu.es  ?  and  will  you  not  ftrive  to  live,  to  teach  his 
fon  to  emulate  his  father,  to  be  as  good,  as  great,  as 
vile  as  he  was  ?" 

Oberca  cad  her  eyes   on  her  child,   then   fuddenly 
.covering  her  face  with  part  of  her  garments,  ihe  wept 
aloud.     The  deftred   end  was  now   attained.     Acute 
fdnfibility  being  relieved  by  the  effuficm,  Arrabclla  was 
iilent,  and  leaving  nature  to    its  courie,  waited  till  the 
firft  rude  mock  was  pail  before  fhe  attempted,  by  rca- 
foning,  to   convince  her  of  the    inutility    of  gri.. 
Alas  !    it  was  a  lefibn  (hard  as  it  was)  which  An  a 
had  long  (''nee  learnt ',  but  it -is  what  the  children  1 
row  all  learn.     Repeated  disappointment  rlril  bhu 
keennefs  of  our  feclingvs ;  corroding  forrow,  from  <  >vex> 
draining,  weakens   \ht  chords  of  fenfbility,    and    at 
length  age  and  infirmity,    creeping  by  chilling 
moll  imperceptible  degrees  through  the  whole  fyllern, 
-totally  relaxes   every  iibrc,   whim  the   heart    becomes 
cold  and  impenetrable  as  the  ice  on    the    highell  i'um- 
mit  of  the  Andes. 

The  Indians  mourned  with  fmccrity  for  their  de- 
parted fachem.  The  cliicfs  and  elders  affembled,  de- 
clared that  Reuben,  when  of  u  proper  age,  Ehotild  fil 
tlie  feat  of  government,  till  when  they  entreated  Dud- 
ley to  take  the  charge  of  his  education,  hi  the  mean 
time,  they  prepared  to  inter  the  remains  of  their  chid, 
>\ith  every  mark  of  refpeet  a«d  Xonour.  But  on  the 
very  day  when  the  folenmity  wav  to  be  performed, 
the  Europeans  made  an  uncTpccVd  fully  on  them, 
routed  the  main  body,  killed  man}-,  and  took  the  re- 
mainder prifoners.  Amcrigft  diofe  vsjjo  fill  *rasYgn* 
koo.  He  fought,  defending  the  houi'e  where  lav  the 
body  of  William,  and  dijd  o.horting  lvis  companions 
to  conquer  or  die. 

Dudley,  his  wife  and   daughter,   with   Oberea   and 
Reuben,    were    conduced   to   an   Englifti    Settlement, 

where 


1 68         REUBEN    ani>    RACHEL;  or, 

where  the  former  funk  into  .1  ftate  of  debility  nearly 
approaching  fecond  childhood,  and  in  a  few  months 
relic  J  from  all  his  forrows.  When  this  event  took  place, 
Arrabella  determined  to  return  to  England,  partly 
from  the  hope  of  her  native  air  acting  as  a  reftorative  to 
hei  heahh,  and  partly  in  the  wilh  of  iccuring  to  Reu- 
ben the  eftatcs  of  his  great-grandfather,  Sir  Ferdinan- 
do  Gorges ;  befidcs  which,  flic  knew  that  in  Europe 
ihe  could  procure  him  to  be  properly  educated,  which 
the  very  imperfect  (tate  of  literature  in  America,  at 
that  early  period,  would  not  allow  her  to  hope,  ihould 
Ihe  continue  there.  Rachel  of  confequence  accompa- 
nied her  mother;- and  Obcrea,  attached  to  them  by 
every  tender  tie,  would  not  be  left  behind.  "  The 
mother  and  the  fon  of  my  William,"  faid  lhe,  "  I  will 
follow  to  the  furthermoft  part  of  the  earth." 

It  was  early  in  the  fpring  of  1 680,  when  the  widow 
Arrabella  Dudley,  her  daughter,  daughter-in-law  and 
grandfon  arrived  in  England,  from  which  lhe  had  been 
abfent  about  thirty-four  years.  Internal  feuds  and 
difcontents  had  driven  herfelf  and  hufband  at  firft  from 
their  native  land,  and  thefe  feuds  in  fome  meafure 
ftill  continued. 

Arrabella  found  it  would  be  in  vain  to  folicit  for 
any  part  of  the  property  of  Sir  Ferdinando.  Himfelf 
and  family  in  general  had  been  attached  to  the  royal 
party,  and  dunrig  the  years  Dudley  had  been  abfent 
from  England,  the  eftates  had  palled  through  lb  many 
different  hands,  that  it  \ras  almoft  impoilible  to  trace 
them  ;  or  could  flic  have  done  fo,  flie  would  have  found 
it  difficult  to  make  Reuben  be  received  as  the  heir. 
His  dark  complexion,  the  nature  of  his  father's  mar- 
riage with  Oberea,  which  in  law  would  have  been 
termed  illegal,  all  militated  againfl  fuccefs,  Ihould  any 
filit  be  commenced  againft  the  prefent  polfeifors  ;  and 
Arrabella  wifely  determined  to  confider  them  as  inev- 
itably loft. 

She  herfelf  inherited,  from  the  bequeft  of  an  aunt, 
a  fmall  eftate  in  Lancafliire,  and  thither  ihe  retired, 
where,  devoting  one  half  of  its  produce  to  the  educa- 
tion of  Reuben,  flic  made  the  other  half  fcrve  all  the 

purpoics 


1 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  169 

purpofes  of  life  ;  and  tins'  eftate  was  worth  but  three 
hundred  pounds  per  annum.  Yet  Arrabella  was  con- 
tented, and  enjoyed  not  only  the  necefiaries,  but  the 
#  comforts  of  life.  Her  own  appearance  and  that  of  her 
daugliters  was  always  neat,  always  refpeclable ;  and 
their  countenances  ever  ferene,  if  not  cheerful.  But 
their  hands  were  conftantly  employed,  and  indolence 
and  luxury  were  alike  ftrangers  in  their  dwelling. 

A  return  to  her  native  climate,  added  to  the  tran- 
quillity fhe  enjoyed,  in  a  great  meafure  reftored  the 
health  of  the  widow  Arrabella. 

Rachel,  true  to  the  firft  impulie  of  her  heart,  rc- 
fufed  to  marry,  though  her  beauty  and  fweetnefs  had 
attracted  many  fuitors.  "I  may,"  ihe  would  fay, 
"  find  men  more  accomplilhed,  who  will  talk  with 
more  eloquence,  are  more  polifhed  in  their  manners  ; 
but  where  fhall  I  find  the  equal  to  Yankoo  for  fin- 
cerity  ?"  Rachel  preferred  a  ftate  of  "  fingle  blcffed- 
nefs." 

Oberea  lived  to  fee  her  fon  attain  his  twenty-third 
year,  to  fee  him  beloved  and  refpetfed  by  all  who  knew 
him  ;  ihc  then  fell  a  victim  to  an  autumnal  fever.  She 
had  lived  beloved,  and  died  universally  lamented. 

About  eighteen  months  after  the  deceafe  of  his 
mother,  Reuben  became  acquainted  with  Cafllah  Penn. 
Caffiah  was  tall,  well  fhaped,  not  Jo  fair  as  to  be  pale, 
nor  dark  enough  to  be  termed  brown  ;  it  was  a  beau- 
tiful mixture  of  the  white  rofe  and  carnation  that  glow- 
ed on  her  forehead,  tinted  her  checks,  and  gave  ani- 
mation to  her  dark  hazel  eyes.  Her  face,  which  was 
elegantly  linking,  without  being  regularly  beautiful, 
received  much  improvement  from  a  tew  curls  of  bright 
chefnut  hair,  which  efcaped,  here  and  there,  from  the 
confinement  of  a  pinched  cap  (for  Cafllah  was  a  Qua- 
ker.) Reuben  faVv  and  loved  the  fair  maiden.  An 
intimacy  had  taken  place  between  their  parents,  and 
by  converfition  it  was  difcovered,  that  the  father  of 
Caffiah  was  a  defendant  from  Beatina  Gorges,  the 
youngcfl  daughter  of  Sir  Egbert  and  Columbia.  It 
was  a  kind  of  rclationihip  that  fao&ified  friendfhip  in 
Q_  the 


j7o        REUBEN    and    RACHEL,  &c 

the  elder  branches  of  the  family,  and  encouraged  die 
affection  of  the  younger. 

Reuben  wooed,  and  was  fuccefsful.  He  threw  afide 
the  habit  of  vanity,  and  affirmed  the  drefs  and  faith  of 
his  beloved.  Their  hands  were  joined  in  the  face  of 
the  church,  and  Arrabella,  about  three  months  after 
this  event  which  gave  her  much  pleafure,  went  to  the 
manfions  of  the  bleft. 

Cafliah  was  young.  Reuben  wiflied  his  aunt  Ra- 
chel to  flay  in  the  family  and  manage  his  houfehold. 
It  was  the  very  thing  her  heart  wiflied  for.  "  My 
lifter,"  raid  Hie,  fmiling,  "  will  have  enough  to  do  to 
nurfe  and  educate  her  children."  But,  awelladay  ! 
aunt  Rachel  was  wrong  in  her  predictions;  for  Reu- 
ben A\as  married  above  ten  years  before  he  had  the 
leaft  profpect  of  a  young  family. 

At  length  his  beloved  Cafliah  bid  fair  to  malce  him 
a  father.  Univerfal  joy  pervaded  the  whole  family  ; 
but,  alas  !  how  tranlient !  The  eagerly  wiflied  for, 
the  long  expected  hour  at  length  arrived.  Cafliah 
gave  birth  to  two  infants,  a  boy  and  a  girl.  She 
heard  file  was  a  mother,  bleffed  her  children,  and  re- 
commended them  ftrongly  to  the  protection  of  their 
jather,  and  the  care  of  aunt  Rachel. 

"  Will  you  name  them,  my  love  r"  laid  her  hufband, 
bending  over  the  bed  with  affection. 

"  They  fiiall  be  called  after  the  two  beings  I  love 
moft,"  faid  fhe,  extending  a  hand  to  her  aunt  and 
hufband.  "  Call  them  Reuben  and  Rachel."  A  hid- 
den faintnefs  feized  her  as  fiie  fpoke.  Gently,  and 
without  pain,  her  pure  fpiiit  palled  from  its  earthly  to 
its  eternal  manlion. 


END    OF    THIS    FIRST    VOLUME. 


, 


Reuben    and   Rachel  ; 

O  R, 

Tales  of  Old  'Times. 

VOLUME    SECOND. 


I 


REUBEN   and   RACHEL; 

O  R, 

TALES    of    OLD   TIMES. 


VOLUME     SECOND. 
CHAP.       I. 


Tales  by  Comparijln  moderny  by  ike  fame  Rule  ancient  i 
or,  Talcs  of  Old  Times  continued. 

TO  lofe  the  partner  of  the  heart,  and  not  feel 
acutely,  would  be  juftly  termed  ftupidity.  To 
attempt  to  delineate  thofe  feelings,  might  with  equal 
juftice  be  called  prcfumption.  The  firft  year  of  our 
hero  and  heroine's  exiftencc  muft  therefore  be  pafled 
over  in  fdence.  At  the  end  of  that  period  we  behold 
their  father  combating,  by  the  efforts  of  rcafon  and 
oonftant  employment,  the  barbed  (hafts  of  affliction. 
The  very  attempt  to  repel  them  weakened  their  force  j 
by  repeated  refinance  they  became  entirely  ha^mlefs, 
and  fell,  totally  bereaved  of  point  or  power,  to  the 
ground. 

Reuben  Dudley  regained  his  fereniry  ;  his  affections* 
his  hopes,  his  fondeft  wifhes  were  now  centred  in  his 
children.  Regret  for  the  mother  was  fwalloved  up 
in  expectation  of  the  children's  future  virtues  and  hap- 
piness. Aunt  Rachel  prefided  over  the  houfehold, 
and  fuperintended  the  nurfery. 

Reuben  and  Rachel  were  by  no  means  fuperior  to 
the  generality  of  children  of  their  .go  and  condition. 
Rachel  was  a  lively  brown  girl,  and  both  (he  and  her 
brother  very  foon  difcovered,  that  by  crying  vocife- 
roufly  they  could  obtain  almoft  any  thing.  Aunt 
0^2  '    RaJ.d 


i;4         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Rachel  would  not  fuffer  the  dear  creatures  to  be  crofl£ 
ed,  and  papa  thought  them,  without  exception,  the 
fweeteft,  molt  charming  children  in  the  univerfe.  Alas! 
cries  affected  wifdom,  how  foolilli  the  l'uppofition  ; 
but  reafon,  unbiaifed  by  prejudice,  declares  it  is  only 
nature,  pure,  undiiguiled  nature. 

Nature  !  dear  goddefs  !  how  beautiful  thou  art, 
when,  chafte  and  unadonicd,  thou  appeared  in  the 
veftments  of  fimplicity  ;  v/hen  the  uudeviating  fea- 
tures portray  but  the  feelings  of  the  heart  ;  when  the 
tongue,  uncontaminated  by  vice,  unverfed  in  the  prac- 
tice of  deception,  gives  utterance  only  to  what  thofe. 
feelings  dictate  ;  then,  who  can  refift  thy  eloquence  ? 
then,  who  can  liften  to  thy  voice,  or  behold  thy  beau- 
ties unmoved  ?  The  philofopher  gazes  at  thee  with 
rapture  ;  the  ftoic  cannot  inveitigatc  thy  charms  and 
retain  his  apathy  ;  forgetting  his  affected  infeniibility, 
he  beholds  with  wonder,  admiration  and  love,  thy  in- 
obtrufive  excellence,  and  joins  involuntarily  in  the  ex- 
clamation of  the  enthulialt,  Oh  Nature  !  dear  god- 
defs !  how  beautiful  thou  art. 

The  children  were  neither  ftrikingly  beautirul,  or 
remarkably  brilliant.  Health,  cheerfulnefs,  and  dis- 
positions naturally  good,  rendered  them  engaging  ; ' 
but  their  minds,  like  the  minds  of  mod  infants,  were 
perfect  blanks,  on  which  the  hand  of  education  might 
jmprefs  whatever  characters  the  in'lructor  pleaied. 
As  they  were  educated  in  the  ftrictefl  principles  of 
Quakerifm,  neither  trouble  nor  expenie  was  beftowed 
on  the  ornamental  parts,  though  every  thing  ufeful 
was  attended  to  with  the  utmoit  care. 

As  they  advanced  in  years,  their  characters  natural- 
ly developed  thcmfelvcs.  Reuben  was  open,  gener- 
ous, unfufpedihg,  and  poffeiTcd  a  firmnefs  of  temper, 
almoft  approaching  to  obtii'nacy.  Enthuliaftic  in  hi*; 
attachment  to  his  "filler,  from  earlic-ft  infancy  his  ac- 
tions had  declared,  that  to  fee  her  contented  and  hap- 
py, mad:  him  fo. 

Rachel  Avas  modeft,  ur.ailuming,   meek,   timid  and 
affectionate.     Pofleiled  of  a  good   underftanding, 
quick  and  clear  perception,  and  a  ftrong  memory,  the 

taP' 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  175- 

taSk  of  imlruiting  her  was  moft  delightful.  Daily, 
nay,  almoft  hourly  did  her  mind  unfold  fome  new, 
fome  unexpected  beauty.  Her  love  of  literature,  and 
the  rapid  progrefs  lhe  made  in  every  ftudy  in  which 
fhe  engaged,  at  once  charmed  and  aRoniihed  her  aunt 
and  father.  But  her  extreme  diffidence  prevented  her 
excellencies  from  being  univerfally  known,  and  it  was 
only  by  a  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  her  intrin- 
sic worth  could  bo  difcovered.  Yet  Rachel  was  not 
faultlefs.  The  mceknefs  of  her  temper  was  fucb,  that 
refentment  was  a  ftranger  to  her  bofem.  An  injury 
was  no  more  remembered  than  as  it  had  given  pain  to 
her  heart,  and  that  heart,  moulded  by  the  hand  of 
pure  innocence,  was  credulous  in  the  extreme.  Her 
exceflive  anxiety  to  fee  others  happy,  made  her  in- 
attentive to  the  means  of  promoting  or  preferring  her 
own  happinefs  ;  and  if  any  one  profeffed  to  love  her, 
though  but  a  moment  before  they  had  held  a  dagger 
to  her  bread:,  fhe  would  have  forgot  the  intended  in- 
Jury,  and  never  doubting  their  llncerity,  admitted  them 
to  her  confidence  and  friendfhip.  Her  affection  for  her 
brother  was  equal  to  his  for  her.  To  feparate  them, 
though  but  for  an  hour,  was  to  give  them  the  (evereft 
unealinefs.  They  were  parted  with  tears,  and  met 
again  with  Superlative  Satisfaction. 

Such  were  Reuben  and  Rachel  at  ten  years  of  age. 
Their  father  doted  on  them  with  the  tendered  affec- 
tion, and  aunt  Rachel  thought  they  were  the  moll  Su- 
perior beings  in  the  whole  univerfe.  She  would  femc- 
times  talk  to  them  about  America,  defcribe  the  vail 
woods,  boundlefs  plains,  majeftic  rivers,  and  extenSive 
lakes  of  that  great  continent.  Reuben  would  li Ren 
with  rapture,  and  fay,  "  When  I  am  a  man,  aunt,  I 
will  go  there."  "  I  Should  like  to  go  too,"  Rachel 
would  fay,  "  but  I  am  furc  I  fliould  be  afraid  to  ^0  to 
lea." 

It  was  on   a  winter's   evening,   as  their  father  was 
overlooking  fome  papers,  old  deeds,  &c.  that  had  lain 
mouldy  in  an  old  trunk  for  many  years,  (intending  to 
deitroy  thofe  that  were  ufelefs)  that  Reuben  ef] 
Scarlet  plume,  or  rather  coronet  cf  feathers,  which  had 

been 


i7«        REUBEN   aki    RACHEL;**, 

been  thrown  with  fome  other  rubbifli  in  a  heap,  in  or- 
der to  be  burned.  He  feized  it,  examined  it  with  at- 
tention, and  at  length,  conceiving  the  purpofe  for 
which  it  had  been  made,  tied  it  round  his  head,  and 
marching  up  to  his  father,  cried,  "  Look  at  me,  Sir." 

"  Upon  my  word,  Sir,"  replied  his  father,  fmiling, 
"  why  you  look  like  a  fachem  indeed  now." 

**  Why,  father,  did  the  fachems  of  the  Indians  wear 
fuch  things  on  their  heads  ?"  afked  Reuben. 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  father,  "  that  was  your  grand- 
father's coronet." 

"  My  grandfather,  Sir  !" 

"  Yes,  child  ;  ,he  became  a  fachem  by  marrying  the 
daughter  of  an  Indian  chief;  but  I  thought  your  aunt 
had  told  you  that  long  ago." 

"  No  indeed,  Sir ;  will  you  tell  us  all  about  it,  how 
ir  came  to  happen,  now  ?" 

«'  No  ;  it  is  a  long  ftory,  and  I  am  bufy." 

Curiofity  is  perhaps  the  ftrongeft  impulfe  of  the  hu- 
man mind.  In  extreme  youth  its  power  is  irrefiftible. 
The  children  felt  theirs  awakened,  and  foftly  opening 
the  door  of  their  father's  ftudy,  they  flipped  out,  and 
ran  into  the  parlour  to  aunt  Rachel.  Aunt  Rachel 
was,  it  is  true,  an  old  maid. 

Full  fifty  winters,  as  they  pafs'd,  had  fned 
Their  filver  honours  on  her  rev'rend  head  ; 
But  ftill  her  heart  its  priftine  warmth  retain'd  ; 
The  days  were  part,  but  mem'ry  ftill  remain'd. 
Still  the  lov'd  form  of  the  lamented  youth, 
His  faith,  his  love,  his  conftancy,  his  truth, 
Were  treafur'd  there. 

The  coronet  that  bound  the  brows  of  Reuben,  re- 
called a  thoufand  tender  recollections.  Her  dear  broth- 
er William  fcemed  to  Hand  in  miniature  before  her. 
The  form  of  Yankoo  arofe  to  her  remembrance.  Obe- 
Tea  too  feemed  prefent ;  and  when  the  boy  aiked  her  ir'fhe 
knew  whofe  crown  that  was,  her  feelings  were  fo  pow- 
erful as  for  a  moment  to  fufpend  her  anfwer. 

"  It  was  my  brother's,"  laid  (he  in  a  mournful  tone, 
taking  it  from  the  child's  head  and  laying  it  on  her 
own  knee  ;  "  I  have  teen  him  wear  it  often." 

He 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  177 

"  He  was  a  great  man  in  America,  aunt,"  faid 
Reuben. 

"  He  was  more  than  great)  my  love,  he  was  good." 

"  Pray,  aunt,"  faid  Rachel,  "  do  you  remember  my 
grandmother  ?" 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Was  Ihe'  an  Indian  V* 

"Yes." 

"  What,  quite  a  wild  favage  :" 

"  No,  my  dear,  flie  was  what  is  in  general  errone- 
oufly  termed  lb  ;  but  her  heart  was  as  gentle,  as  com- 
panionate, as  full  of"  virtue  and  piety,  as  that  ot  the 
moll:  enlightened  Chriftian." 

"  Was  lhe  black,  aunt :" 

"No;  dark  brown,  or  rather  copper.  But  the 
complexion  ot'  her  face  was  like  that  of  her  mind- 
Its  charms  and  imperfections  were  difcoverable.  at  one 
glance,  and  it  was  ever  beautiful,  becaufe  invariable." 

"  But  was  my  grandfather  a  fachem  ?" 

"  He  was." 

"  What  is  a  fachem  ?" 

"  It  is  a  title  given  to  a  chief  amongfl  the  Indians, 
and  is  the  fame  as  governor  with  us." 

"  How  came  he  to  be  a  chief  of  the  favages,  aunt  r" 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  replied  aunt  Rachel. 

It  was  a  fubjeft  on  which  ihe  delighted  to  expatiate. 
She  ftirred  up  the  fire,  folded  up  her  work,  and  placing 
the  attentive  children  on  each  fide  of  her,  began. — 
But  my  readers  already  know  the  whole  (lory,  and 
repetitions  are  ever  tedious  and  uninterciting.  Aunt 
Rachel  was  minute  in  her  recital.  At  the  account  of 
her  capture,  Rachel  wept  ;  but  Reuben  ftarted  from 
his  feat,  his  countenance  glowing  with  refentment, 
and  cried,  "  I  wiih  I  had  been  there." 

"  And  what  could  you  have  done,  my  love  I"  faid 
his  aunt. 

"  Have  refcued  you,  or  died,"  replied  our  hero. 

"Charming,  undaunted  fpirit,"  exclaimed  his  aunt, 
and  then  continued  her  narrative. 

When  flie  recounted  the  death  of  Otooganoo,  and 
the  folemn  manner  in  which  he  recommended  tlieir 

father 


i78         REUBEN   and    RACHEL;  or, 

father  ('lien  an  infant)  to  the  care  of  the  chiefs,  "  Good 
old  man,"  laid  Rachel,  in  the  mod  expreflive  accent 
of  affection,  "  what  a  pity  he  Ihould  die." 

"Then  my  father  is  a  fachem,"  laid  Reuben  ;  and 
the  feeds  of  ambition  which  nature  had  implanted, 
but  which  till  that  moment  had  lain  dormant  in  his 
bofom,  flartcd  into  life.  At  the  account  of  their 
grandfather's  death,  the  children  both  fobbed  audibly. 

"  I  will  !  1  am  determined  I  will  !  go  to  Ameri- 
ca," faid  Reuben,  firft  fuppreffing  his  emotions. 

"  What,  without  me,  brother  l"  afked  Rachel,  in  a 
mournful  voice. 

"  No,  no,"  he  replied,  "  not  without  you,  but  when 
I  am  a  man  we  will  go  together  ;  we  will  find  out  our 
grandfather's  government,  and  difcover  ourfelves  to 
his  people  ;  I  dare  fay  they  would  be  glad  to  fee  us, 
fince  they  loved  him  fo  well." 

"  But  what  Ihould  we  go  there  for,  brother  ?  I  am 
fore  we  are  very  happy  here,  and  papa  would  not  be 
willing  to  part  with  us,  and  aunt  Rachel  too  would 
mil's  us." 

M  Well,  then,  I  will  go,  and  leave  you  with  them, 
and  when  I  have  fettled  myfelf  in  my  government,  I 
will  fend  for  you  all.  Oh  !  what  a  fine  houfe  I  will 
have,  and  then  what  a  number  of  fervants,  and  horfesj 
and  coaches." 

Aunt  Rachel  fmiled,  to  hear  how  eagerly  die  fancy 
of  youth  catches  at  the  hope  of  future  greatnefs,  and 
how  readily  they  connecT  die  ideas  of  grandeur,  affli 
ence,  and  numerous  attendants,  to  the  poflefllon  of  a 
title.  She  gazed  for  a  moment  with  pleafure  on  his 
intelligent  countenance,  which  the  emotions  of  his  lit- 
tle fwelling  heart  had  lighted  up  with  uncommon  ani- 
mation ;  and  paufed,  unwilling  to  throw  a  damp  on 
thofe  delightful  fenlations  he  appeared  to  enjoy.  At 
length,  "  What  would  you  fay,"  cried  fhe,  "  if  I  were 
to  tell  you  that  your  grandfather  had  no  attendants 
except  a  few  warriors,  who,  from  voluntary  attach- 
ment to  his  perfon,  followed  to  protect  him  from  dan- 
ger ;  that  he  had  neither  horfe  nor  carriage  ;  that  his 
palace  was  chiefly  compofed  of  the  bark  of  trees  ;  that 

his 


•  TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         17$ 

his  bed  was  the  fkins  of  wild  beafts,  and  his  feat  of 
ftate  the  trunk  of  an  old  tree,  hewn  into  ibmething  re- 
fembling  a  chair,  covered  with  beaver  and  other  (kins, 
;\nd  its  ornaments  the  teeth  of  tygers,  poliihed  ihells 
and  fifli  bones  ?" 

"  But  he  was  good,"  faid  Rachel,  "  and  confequent- 
ly  happy." 

"  And  he  was  brave  and  wife,"  faid  Reuben  exult- 
ingly,  "  and  every  body  loved  him." 

"  Sweet  children,"  faid  aunt  Rachel,  "  thofe  are 
confequences  which  ought  ever  to  follow  goodnefs, 
bravery  and  wifdom.  But,  alas  !  they  are  not  always 
certain. 

"  What,  then,  are  not  all  good  perfons  happy  ?" 

"  Not  always  in  their  outward  circumstances  ;  but 
they  enjoy  internal  peace." 

"  And  ave  not  the  brave  and  the  wife  always  ef- 
teemed  ?" 

"  By  thofe  who  have  fenfe  and  difcernment  they  in 
general  are  ;  but  unfortunately,  great  and  lliining 
qualifications,  of  either  mind  or  pcribn,  excite  in  gen- 
eral more  envy  than  love." 

"What  is  envy,  aunt?" 

"A  pafiion,  my  dear  Rachel,  to  which  I  hope  you 
will  ever  remain  a  llranger."  With  this  v.  iiii  the  qood 
old  lady  kiifed  the  children,  and  diliniifed  them  to 
bed. 

CHAP.       II. 

Education   may  polifl)  the  Manners,   but   Human  Katuri 
will  be  Jlill  the  fame. 

THOUGH  the  father  of  our  hero  and  heroine 
was  a  man  moderate  in  his  willies,  and  of  that 
reafonable  caft  of  mind  that  preferred  mediocrity  to 
affluence  ;  yet  he  conceived  it  an  indifpeniable  duty  to 
endeavour  to  improve  his  fortune  for  the  fake  of  his 
children.  He  had  retained  fome  faint  idea  of  the  beau- 
ty  and  fertility  of  the  American  continent ;  he  alfo 

felt 


i3o         REUBEN    anb    RACHEL;  •*, 

felt  an  irrcfiltible  impulfe  to  vi (it  once  more  the  place 
of  his  nativity  ;  and  a  number  of  families,  of  his  own 
perfualion,  about  this  period  emigrating  to  the  colony 
of  Pennfylvania,  amongft  whom  were  fome  of  his/ 
wife's  neareft  relations,  he  collected  together  all  the 
ready  money  he  was  mailer  of,  and  turning  it  into 
fuch  merchandize  as  was  moll  likely  to  be  productive 
of  emolument,  embarked  with  a  defign  of  purchafing 
land,  building  a  houfe,  and  putting  the  whole  in  fuch 
a  ftatc  of  cultivation,  as  might  render  it  at  once  a 
pleafant  and  profitable  habitation  for  his  children, 
when  arrived  to  the  age  of  maturity.  , 

How  naturally  do  we  expect  our  children,  or  thofe 
in  whofe  welfare  we  are  interested,  to  adopt  the  fenti- 
ments  moft  congenial  to  our  own  feelings,  without 
confidering  that  nature  is  as  various  in  the  formation 
of  the  minds  of  men,  as  of  their  fiiccs  ;  and  thofe  pur- 
fuits  and  acquirements,  which  to  one  will  give  the 
moft  fuperlative  delight,  to  another  would  bring  only 
mifery.  Thus  the  father  of  Rachel  and  Reuben,  be- 
ing himfelf  a  man  of  peace,  fond  of  retirement  and  the 
ftudy  of  agriculture,  thought  he  could  not  render 
them  a  more  acceptable  fervice,  than  to  prepare  them 
a  habitation,  where  they  might  enjoy  uninterrupted 
quiet  ;  where  plenty  would  prefide  at  the  board,  and 
the  ftudy  of  nature,  in  all  her  varieties  and  beauties, 
enliven  folitude. 

He  placed  his  fon  at  a  public  fchool  to  finilh  his 
education,  and  making  proper  arrangements  for  the 
fupport  of  his  family  during  his  abfence  (which  he 
imagined  would  be  about  two  years)  lie  entrufted  Ra- 
chel to  the  care  of  her  aunt,  with  inftructions,  that  in 
cafe  of  death  Ihe  fhould  remove  to  the  houfe,  and  i'ub- 
mit  to  the  direction  of  iicr  maternal  uncle,  Hezekiah 
Penn. 

Reuben  and  Rachel  were  in  their  thirteenth  year 
when  this  feparati  >n  took  .place.--  Their  tears  fell  at 
the  idea  of  being  parted  from  their  father  ;  but  when 
the  brother  and  fifter  were  informed  that,  during  a 
period  of  two  years,  they  mu'l  not  expect  to  meet  on- 


i 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  181 

ly  at  each  returning  Chriftmas,  their  grief  was  beyond 
expreffion. 

When  the  carriage  came  to  the  door  that  was  to 
.convey  Reuben  from  her,  Rachel  burft  into  an  agony 
of  tears.  "  My  brother  !  my  dear,  dear  brother  !" 
ihe  cried,  hanging  round  his  neck. 

"  God  blcfs  you,  my  charming  fifter  !  my  dear, 
amiable  fifter!"  cried  he. 

Aunt  Rachel  drew  her  niece  from  the  door,  from 
the  parting  embrace  of  her  brother  (who  was  led  to 
the  carriage  by  his  father)  and  by  degrees  compofed 
and  confoled  her. 

It  cannot  be  fnppofed  that  their  father  was  an  un- 
moved fpeclator  of  this  affecting  fecne.  No  !  he  felt 
and  compaftionatcd  their  fuffenngs  ;  but  he  knew  that 
a  maiden  aunt  and  fequeftercd  manfion,  would  in  no 
wife  prepare  his  fon  for  the  active  fcenes  of  life  in  which 
(however  contrary  to  his  own  wifhes)  he  would  mod 
likely  hereafter  engage. 

His  family  concerns  being  now  fettled  to  his  fatif- 
faiftion,  he  embarked  for  Pennfylvania.  His  commer- 
cial plans  were  executed  with  great  fuccefs,  his  intend- 
ed purchafe  made  on  very  advantageous  terms,  and 
at  the  clofe  of  the  third  year  from  his  fir  ft  arrival,  he 
prepared  again  to  vifit  England.  Mr.  Dudley  had 
taken  from  Europe  with  him  a  diftant  relation  of  his 
wife's,  a  young  man,  of  whom,  as  he  will  make  a  con- 
fiderable  figure  in  the  enfuing  pages,  it  may  not  be 
thought  an  unneceflary  digreffion  to  give  fome  account. 

The  mother  of  Jacob  Holmes  was  niece  to  the  fath- 
er of  Cafllah  Penn.  She  had  been  left  an  orphan  m 
early  infancy  ;  but  the  lofs  of  parents  was  amply  fup- 
plied  by  her  benevolent  uncle  and  aunt.  She  was 
nearly  of  the  fame  age  with  their  own  daughter,  and, 
brought  up  with  her,  received  the  fame  benefit  cf  ed- 
ucation. When  Caftiah  married  the  father  of  our  he- 
ro and  heroine,  Mary  Holmes  continued  with  her 
aunt,  and  by  tender  ;;ftiduity  endeavoured  to  prevent 
her  feeling  too  acutely  the  privation  of  her  daughter's 
fociety.  Mary  was  naturally  fincerc  and  artlcfs  ;  but 
Mary  was  handlbmc,  and  loved  to  be  told  of  her  bcau- 
R  tv. 


i&2         REUBEN    asi>    RACHEL;   or, 

ty.  She  pofTerTed  what  is  in  general  termed  one  of 
the  belt  diipofitions  in  the  world,  becaufe  Hie  feldom 
took  the  trouble  to  contradict  any  one.  Her  ealinefs 
might,  without  much  exaggeration,  have  been  termed 
indolence  ;  and  her  extreme  good- nature,  folly  and 
want  of  feeling.  To  praife  her  beauty,  was  to  win 
her  heart  ;  and  being  often  extolled  for  her  iwectnefs 
and  cvennefs  of  temper,  fhe  conceived,  that  to  be  \  er- 
fectly  pafllvc  was  to  be  perfectly  amiable  ;  and  Mary. 
with  a  face  extremely  lovely,  and  a  form  captivating, 
potfelTed  neither  expreflion  of  countenance,  nor  feriu- 
bility  of  heart ;  but  like  fome  kinds  of  tropical  fruits, 
which,  when  ripe,  are  fo  fweet  as  to  be  iniipid,  and, 
though  beautiful  to  the  eye,  have  neither  poignancy 
or  flavour  to  delight  the  tafte.  She  had  loved  her 
$oufin  Cafliah  with  as  much  tendernefs  as  her  nature 
Was  capable  of;  flic  thought  her  the  moft  perfect  of 
human  beings  ;  and  whillt  Cafliah  was  her  conftant. 
companion,  Mary  was  free  from  error. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  the  dwelling  of  Obadiah, 
Penn,  was  the  ancient  feat  of  the  family  of  the  Fitz- 
geralds.  Arthur  Fitzgerald  was  an  only  child  ;  his 
iathcr  had  been  dead  many  years;  his  mother's  in- 
dulgence had  been  unbounded ;  and  at  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  Arthur  had  fcarcely  ever  known  what  it  was 
to  be  contradicted.  Heir  at  once  to  the  eilates  of  his 
father  and  the  hereditary  honours  of  his  mother ;  a 
defcendant  cf  the  houfe  of  Aumerle,  of  which  he  was 
the  laft  male  branch,  Arthur  thought  the  chief  end  of 
his  exiftence  was  pleaiure  ;  and  though  pollened  of  a 
good  underftanding,  and  a  not  naturally  corrupt 
heart,  he  often  performed  actions  which  did  honour  to 
humanity  ;  yet  unlimited  indulgence  and  unclouded 
profperity,  by  degrees  rendered  thofe  divine  impulfes 
(if  nature,  compaifion  and  benevolence,  weaker  and 
weaker,  till  at  length  his  heart  cealed  to  be  influenced 
by  either. 

His  mother,  lady  Allida,  chiefly  refided  at  the  Pine- 
ry, the  name  the  feat  had  taken  from  its  being  fur- 
rounded  by  a  deep  wood  of  pine  trees.  Mrs.  Pinup 
was  lady  Allida's  chief  attendant,  and  fupcrintendant 

cf 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  183 

tf  her  houfehold  in  general.  Though  it  might  be 
fuppofed,  that  the  vaft  diftance  pride  places  between 
the  family  of  a  woman  of  quality  in  actual  polfeflion 
of  eight  thoufand  pounds  a  year,  and  expectant  of 
twice  the  fum,  and  that  of  a  fimple  country  gentle- 
man, whofe  whole  annual  income  did  not  exceed  eight 
hundred,  did  not  allow  of  any  intercourfe  between  la- 
dy Allida  Fitzgerald,  and  the  wife  of  Obadiah  Penn  ; 
but  the  fervants  of  thole  families  fometimes  met,  and 
Mrs.  Pinup,  in  the  extreme  condefcenfion  of  her  heart, 
and  likewife  having  her  mind  fixed  on  fome  excellent 
raipberry  brandy  (which  the  old  lady  kept  as  a  whole- 
fome  ftomachic)  fometimes  paid  a  vifit  to  dame  Prue, 
Tipper  fervant  in  Mr.  Penn's  family. 

In  fome  of  thefe  vifits,  Mrs.  Pinup  had  often  fecn 
both  Cafllah  and  Mary  ;  but  there  was  always  a  mod- 
el! dignity  in  the  manner  of  the  former,  that  repelled 
any  approach  to  familiarity  from  perfbns  whole  edu- 
cation, manners  and  ftation  rendered  them  unj  I  c<  m- 
panions  ;  yet  it  was  a  dignity  no  ways  ttaftfi 
haughtinefs.  She  was  eve;  gentle  and  affable,  fe 
much  fo  as  to  be  a  univerfal  favourite,  fiom  the  highlit 
to  the  lowed. 

But  Mary  would  laugh  with  the  maids ;  and  though 
refped  for  her  as  their  matters  niece,  kipt  the  men- 
i'crvants  in  fome  awe,  fhe  endured  from  them  familiar 
praifes  of  her  beauty,  not  only  without  refentment,  but 
even  with  fuch  an  apparent  degree  of  fatisia<ftion  as 
encouraged,  rather  than  repelled  their  freedom. 
Sometimes,  when  Mrs.  Pinup  was  there,  fhe  would  go 
down  flairs  purpofely  to  chat  with  her,  aft  a  thoufand 
queftions  about  lady  Allida,  the  houfe,  the  pleafurc- 
grounds,  and  other  more  infignificant  fubjecls,  fuch  as 
her  drefs,  the  faihion  of  it ;  for  Mary  Holmes  was  no 
Quaker  in  her  heart,  and  would  often  pull  off  herclofe 
mob,  and  let  her  hair,  which  was  very  fine,  fail  loofely 
over  her  moulders.  But  if  the  more  fedate  Cafhah 
ever  beheld  any  cf  thefe  figns  of  vanity,  fhe  would 
mildly  reprove  them,  and  as  Mary  feared  to  offend 
her,  ihc  would  ever  retrain  them  in  her  prefence. 

Mrs. 


184        REUBEN    and    RACHEL?  or, 

Mrs.  Pinup,  ever  communicative,  and  wonderfully 
eloquent  in  the  praife  of  lady  Allida,  would  expatiate 
for  hours  on  her  grandeur,  heT  rich  clothes,  her  houfe, 
her  plate,  and  jewels  ;  nay,  lhe  often  afked  dame  Prue 
to  come  and  bring  the  young  ladies  to  fee  all  theft 
fine  things.  Calliah  uniformly  refilled  theft  invitations, 
but  Mary,  though  fubmillive  to  the  fuperior  wifdem 
of  her  coufin,  fecretly  wifhed  to  accept  them. 

On  the  marriage  of  Calliah,  her  mother  accompa- 
nied her  home,  and  remained  with  her  as  a  vilitor  near- 
ly a  month.  During  this  time,  the  heediefs  Mary, 
unable  to  combat  her  inclinations,  though  lhe  knew 
they  were  wrong,  yielded  to  the  felicitations  of  dame 
Prue,  and  accompanied  her  to  the  Pinery.  Lady  Al- 
lida was  abfent  for  the  day.  Mrs.  Pinup  led  her 
guefls  through  the  antique  and  fuperbly  furnifhed 
■apartments.  The  rich  velvet  canopies,  the  ftately 
beds,  die  ma/Ty  filver  cups,  large  marble  tables  with 
burniihed  fupporters,  China  vafes,  large  looking-glalf- 
es,  and  beautiful  tapcllry,  were  gazed  on  by  Mary 
with  wonder  and  delight.  Plenty,  unreftrained  by  par- 
iimony,  prelided  over  every  department  of  the  houfe- 
hoid  economy  of  Obadiah  Penn.  His  furniture  was 
excellent  in  its  kind,  but  it  was  plain. 

The  wardrobe  was  next  difplayed.  The  rich  tilTue, 
brocaded  or  velvet  fuits  were  in  turns  the  object  of 
her  admiration  and  defire.  The  fine  lace  pinners,  the 
diamond  earings,  necklace,  and  other  ornaments — Oh  ! 
how  fine  !  how  beautiful  !  how  elegant  !  was  repeat- 
ed a  hundred  times. 

"  Well,"  faid  Mary,  "  I  wonder  how  I  mould  lock, 
dreifed  in  fome  of  this  finery  ?" 

"Look  !  why  like  an  angel,  I'm  fure,"  faid  Mr,s. 
Pinup.  "  Oh  !  there  is  nothing  like  drefs,  to  let  off  a 
pretty  face  ;  and  if  you  look  lb  handfome  in  that 
brown  padufuoy  gown  and  plain  mullin  cap,  how  do 
you  think  you  would  look  in  a  full  drefs  fait  ?" 

Mary  was  holding  a  rich  blue  lilk  robe  in  her  hand 
at  the  moment  ;  lhe  held  it  up  againlt  her  fide.  The 
delicacy  of  the  colour  was  exactly  fuited  to  her  com- 
plexion ;  the  effect   it  had  gave   an  additional  flulh  tQi 

her 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  185 

her  cheek.  It  was  a  loofe  robe,  made  with  open 
fleeves,  and  fattened  at  the  bofom  with  a  diamond 
clafp.  The  ground  was  blue,  but  it  was  fuperbly  em- 
broidered with  filver,  and  round  the  neck  and  fleeves 
was  a  net  of  filver  thread. 

"  Put  it  on,"  faid  Mrs.  Pinup. 

The  falhion  of  the  drefs  was  fuch  as  partly  to  ex- 
pofe  the  neck.  The  neck  of  Mary  was  covered  with 
a  fine  cambrick  handkerchief.  Mrs.  Pinup  took  it 
off  ;  and  then,  flipping  the  robe  over  her  other  clothes, 
faftened  it  at  the  bofom,  releafed  her  luxurious  flaxen 
hair  from  the  confinement  of  the  cap,  and  turning  her 
to  the  glafs,  faid,  "  What  do  you  think  of  yourfelf 
now  ?'» 

Dame  Prue  fat  by,  a  filent  fpeftatrefs  of  this  fcene. 
She  was  too  good-natured  to  condemn,  and  loo  wife 
wholly  to  approve.  Mary  gazed  and  fmiled,  walked 
alonp-  the  room  to  admire  herfelf  at  full  length  in  the 
glafs,  and  laid,  in  a  tone  expreffive  of  mortification, 
"  Well,  I  (hall  never  like  myfelf  in  my  Quaker  drefs 
again." 

"  With  this  expveffion,  Die  turned  with  a  defign  of 
throwing  oil"  her  borrowed  plumes,  when  fhe  beheld  a 
young  man,  whofe  drefs  befpoke  him  of  confequence, 
entering  the  apartment.  He  ftopped  for  a  moment  ;  he 
looked  unutterable  admiration  ;  then  exclaimed,  in  an 
accent  of  Wonder,  "  Angel !  gocklefs!  bright  divinity!" 
Covered  with  confufion,  Mary  would  have  efiaped 
through  the  oppofite  door  ;  but  he  faw  her  defign* 
and  feizing  her  hand,  befought  her  not  to  be  alanned. 
"  Compofc  yourfelf,  lovely  creature,"  faid  he,  "  I 
meant  not  to  frighten  you." 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  in  the  houfe,  Sir,"  faid 
Pinup,  in  evident  confufion. 

"  I  have  not  been  in  ten  minutes,"  faid  he.  "  I  in- 
tended to  drefs  and  join  my  mother  at  lord  Aumerle's, 
but  while  Le  Beau  was  fettling  my  peruke,  he  inform- 
ed me,  if  I  would  come  up  into  my  mother's  dreffmg- 
voom,  I  fhould  fee  one  of  the  prettied  Quakers  in  the 
world.  But  I  fee  a  celeftial  being.  A  Quaker  !  what ! 
ftiall  thofe  lovely  treffes  be  concealed,  that  enchanting 
R  2  form 


186         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

form  be  disfigured  by  their  puritanical,  formal  drefs  ? 
Forbid  it,  all  ye  loves  and  graces." 

Mary  had  neither  fenlihility  nor  difcemment  fufti- 
cient  to  comprehend  the  infult  to  which  ihe  had  e*- 
pofed  herfelf,  in  thus  aflbciating  with  the  fervants  of  a 
family,  who,  if  her  fuperior  in  point  of  fortune,  was 
not  of  a  more  elevated  defecnt.  But  the  feelings  of 
Mary  were  never  very  troublefome  to  her,  and  the 
Lethean  draught  of  flattery  her  ears  had  drank,  intox- 
icated her  femes  and  perverted  her  undcrftanding.  In- 
ftead  of  relenting  the  freedom  of  Fitzgerald's  addrefs, 
fhe  was  filcnt,  and  her  heart  fecretly  exulted  at  having 
excited  his  admiration.  Inftead  of  infilling  on  going 
immediately  home,  ihe  threw  aiide  her  fumptuous  and 
imprudently  a/fumed  ornaments,  and  in  her  own  fimple 
attire  deicended  to  the  housekeeper's  apartment,  where; 
refreshments  were  ferved,  of  which  Arthur  partook. 

The  evening  approached.  Dame  Prue  arofc  to  tie- 
part.  "  I  will  fee  you  fafe  through  the  Pinery,"  fa  id- 
Arthur.  The  moon  was  riling  in  full,  unclouded  ma- 
jefty.     The  evening  was  calm,  mild  and  inviting. 

"  My  lady  will  not  return  till  late,"  faid  Pinup  ;  "  I 
think  I  will  go  a  little  way  with  them  myfelf,  and  not 
trouble  you,  Sir." 

"  I  thought  you  knew,  Pinup,"  faid  Arthur,  "  that 
I  never  do  any  thing  that  I  conceive  a  trouble.  Yoit 
fhall  accompany  the  old  gentlewoman,  and  I  will  of- 
fer my  arm  to  the  young  divinity." 

"  How  filvcr-fwcct  found  lovers'  tongues  by  night,' 
fays  our  immortal  Shakefpeare ;  and  who  fo  well  un- 
derftood  human  nature,  its  wcaknefs,  its  virtues,  its 
paflions ;  who  fo  veil  delineate?" 

The  extent  of  th<:  Pinery  was  a  mile  and  a  half; 
vet  the  meadow,  the  ft  ream  that  watered  it,  and  the 
hill  on  the  fide  of  which  ftood  the  manGon  of  Obadi- 
ah,  appeared  to  view  before  they  thought  they  had 
walked  half  way.  For  Arthur  Fitzgerald  talked  of 
love,  and  Mary  Holmes,  though  incapable  of  feeling  a 
real  paffion,  liftencd  in  delighted  filence  to  the  voice 
©f  adulation. 

Dame 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  187 

Dame   Prue  was  confident  Mrs.  Dudley  would  not 
greatly  approve  her  own  vifit   to   the   Pinery,  much 
more,  that  fiie  mould  have  taken   her  niece   with  her. 
She  therefore  defired  Mary  to  be  Client  on  the  fubject. 
Mary  was  not  inclined  to  fpeak  upon  it  to  any  one.   Had 
Arthur  taken  no  methods  to   fee  this  weak  girl  again, 
in  all  probability,  the  traniient  liking  (he  had  conceiv- 
ed for  him  would  have   died  away  ;  but   Arthur,   un- 
accuftomed  to  put   any  reftraint   on   his  paiTions,    and 
being   greatly   charmed   with  the   beauty   of  the   fair 
Quaker,  without  once  conlidering  the  confequence  p£ 
(educing  fo  young,  fo  lovely  a  creature  from  the  paths 
of  rectitude,  wrote  to  her  in  a  flyle  of  fubmiffive  ado- 
ration, and   implored  her,  if  (he   willicd   to    fave   him 
from  deipair,  to  meet  him  at  the  margin  of  the  brook 
'  in    the   meadow.     Mary    complied  ;    repeated    inter- 
views enfucd,   and  fhe  fell  a   victim,  not  to  fenfibility 
or  paffion — No  ;  Mary  Holmes  was  the  victim  of  van- 
ity and  too    great   pliability  of  temper.      Confcious  of 
her  deviation  from  virtue,  the  pretence  of  her  -\  irtuous 
aunt  became  painful  to  her  ;  yet  did  lhe  not  experience 
the  laudable  kind  of  uneaitneis  which  leads  to  repent- 
ance and  amendment. 

Indifference  is  the  lethargy  of  the  foul  ;  it  is  the 
grave  of  virtue  and  excellence.  Indifference  acts  upon 
the  mental  faculties,  as  indolence  docs  on  the  body  ; 
for  as  the  man  who  indulges  in  inactivity  can  neVfltr 
expect  to  rife  into  notice,  fecure  or  amend  his  fortune, 
fo  the  fowl  incrufted  in  indifference  is  incapable  of  in- 
citing one  great  or  glorious  action.  It  conceives  not 
the  beauty  of  virtue,  nor  the  real  deformity  of  vice. 
Its  affections  are  cold  j  its  pleafures  fo  languid,  they 
fcarcc  deferve  the  name.  Its  pains  are  few  indeed. 
But  then  what  fatisfaction  does  the  pofleflbr  lofe  !  The 
beauties  of  creation  are  unfolded  to  him  in  vain ;  in  vain 
the  gorgeous  canopy  of  heaven  difplays  ten  thousand 
thoufand  moving  worlds,  that,  as  they  roll  in  the  ex- 
panic  of  ether,  contribute  to  embellifh,  cheer  and  warm 
the  globe  which  we  inhabit  ;  in  vain  the  teeming  earth 
-  brings  forth  her  fruit ;  nor  field  of  ripened  grain,  nor 
opening  flower,  nor  flock,  nor  herd,  afford  one  joy  for 

him. 


188         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

him.  He  gazes  at  them  all  with  ftupid  vacuity  of 
thought,  and  wonders  at  the  grateful  tear  that  fprings 
to  the  eye  from  the  heart  of  ienfibility. 

The  hiflory  of  poor  Mary  is  foon  finiflied.  She  left 
the  protection  of  her  uncle,  and  accompanied  Fitz- 
gerald to  London.  DifEpation  of  every  kind  was 
rufhed  into  with  avidity.  Her  purfe  was  liberally  fup- 
plied  by  her  feducer  ;  her  houfe  was  elegant ;  her 
equipage  gay  ;  her  drefs  always  fplendid,  and  not  fel- 
dom  capricioufly  extravagant.  But  though  beauty 
may  fafcinate  the  fenles,  prudence,  virtue,  and  a  good 
underftanding,  are  necefiary  to  make  the  charm  pow- 
erful and  lafting.  Fitzgerald  grew  weary  of  her  folly 
and  profufion  ;  he  forfook  her  ;  yet  not  ungeneroufly. 
He  fettled  fufficient  on  her  to  procure  all  the  comforts 
and  fome  of  the  elegancies  of  life.  But,  alas  !  Mary 
was  ftill  young,  ftill  lovely,  and  ftill  indifferent.  The 
opinion  of  the  world  was  of  little  confequence  to  her  ; 
nor  fcarcely  one  individual  in  it  was  more  regarded 
than  another.  Adulation  fhe  fought,  and  it  was 
poured  in  upon  her  from  every  quarter.  She  regretted 
not  the  defertion  of  Fitzgerald  ;  another  and  another 
fpoiler  came  ;  and  Mary  Holmes  funk  into  the  loweft 
abyfs  of  guilt  and  lhame- 

..«..«..«..<  <<^>-$»^>>  >  >  >  ►-• 
CHAP.     III. 

"  We  all  know  what  we  are,  but  we  know  not  what  nue 
may  he." 

THAT  mifery  is  ever  the  certain  concomitant  of 
guilt,  is  univerfally  allowed  an  incontrovertible 
fact.  Mary  Holmes,  with  as  little  reflection  or  feeling 
as  it  is  poffible  for  a  rational  being  to  polTels,  was  a 
proof  of  the  truth  of  this  affertion.  Diflipation,  whilft 
it  had  the  charms  of  novelty,  intoxicated  her  fenfes, 
and  kept  her  mind  in  fuch  continued  employment,  that 
her  generous  uncle  Obadiah,  her  affectionate  coufin 
Cafliah,  home,  the  brook,  the  meadow,  and  the  Pinery, 

were 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  18$ 

were  all  forgotten  in  the  conftant  vortex  of  felly.  But  the 
fame  fcene, however  fafcinating  at  firft,by  continual  rep- 
etition lofes  its  charms,  and  becomes  infipid  and  dif fitt- 
ing. So  Mary,  often  m  the  midft  of  noify  mirth  and 
tumultuous  plealure,  would  caft  a  wiJhful,  though  tran- 
fient  thought,  towards  her  uncle's  quiet  parlour, and  the 
tranquil  happmefs  that  was  ever  her  companion  there. 

Seven,  years  had  paired,  and  Mary  was  no  longer 
followed,  courted  and  admired.  She  had  loll  her  mod 
powerful  charm.  Her  cheek  was  no  longer  fuifuied 
with  the  crimfon  of  timidity,  nor  her  manners  attract- 
ive from  that  feminine  baihfulnefs,  which  renders  even 
a  plain  woman  agreeable  ;  and  a  beautiful  woman  on 
whofe  brow  fits  modeil  bailifulnefs,  enthroned  in  native 
purity,  ever  is,  ever  will  be,  irrefiltible.  But,  alas  ! 
when  virtue  has  forfaken  the  heart,  the  Vermillion  of 
chaftity  ceafes  to  vifit  the  cheek,  and  beauty  without 
it,  however  exquifite,  can  catch  even  the  eye  but  for  a 
moment.  Charmed  with  the  moil  finilhed  workman- 
ihip  of  nature,  we  look  for  the  foul  that  fiiould  inform 
it.  But  we  End  it  blotted  !  difgraced  !  loft  !  Admi- 
ration ceafes ;  pity  fucceeds  ;  and  whilil  we  wi£h  to 
reform,  we  cannot  but  defpife. 

Mary  had  arrived  at  this  lail  ftage.  Forfaken  by 
the  men,  her  vanity  was  no  longer  gratified  ;  and  to 
enliven  her  home,  where  could  ihe  find,  amongll  the 
unhappy  females  with  whom  ihe  had  been  acculiomed 
to  affociate,  <>ne  whofe  convcrfation  could  either  amufe 
or  infuufl  her.  Unaccullomed,  even  in  her  happieft 
days,  to  feck  amufement  within  hei  felf,  it  cannot  be  fup- 
pofed,  when  "  (in  and  ihame  had  laid  all  wafte,M  ihe 
could  find  pleafure  in  reflection. 

The  life  of  Mary  was  a  continued  blank  ;  unloving, 
unloved.  Jo)iefs  palled  her  days;  nor  wifh,  nor 
hope,  nor  fear  dtverfified  it  ;  all  wis  inanimation. 

At  this  period  lhc  found  herfelf  in  the  moft  ratereft- 
ing  iituation  a  female  can  experience.  She  was  about 
to  become  a  mother.  If  Mary  ever  was  fenlible  of 
any  thing  like  remorfe,  it  was  on  this  occafion.  She  wifli- 
cd  (lie  had  not  fwervc  I  from  the  path  of  rectitude  ;  ihe 
wilLed  her  child  had  not  been  the  offspring  of  fliame. 

It 


f9o         REUBEN  and  RACHEL?  or, 

It  was  about  the  middh  of  April.  The  meadow 
began  to  afl'ume  a  cheerful  appearance  ;  the  fruit  tree 
rich  in  blufhing  fweets,  icented  the  air  with  perfumi 
more  grateful  to  the  fenfe  than  the  molt  coitly  cc  1 
pound  °f  art.  Mary's  health  had  been  impaired,  bj 
midnight  vigils,  riot  and  intemperance.  She  fought 
irom  the  frefhnefs  of  the  country  air,  a  reinitatement 
of  it,  and  a  relief  from  that  lalntuJe  ;md  inanity  which 
weighed  upon  her  fpirits  ;  a  neat  cottage  but  a  few 
miles  from  London  became  her  refidenee. 

Late  one  evening,  as  fhe  was  preparing  to  retire  to 
reft,  the  found  of  a  carriage  driving  haftily  by,  attract- 
ed her  attention.  In  a  moment  the  noife  of  the  wheels 
ceafed  j  a  fudden  fliriek  was  heard,  and  then  all  was 
filent. 

"  Why,  as  fure  as  can  be,  ma'am,"  faid  the  fcrvant 
who  was  helping  her  to  undrefs,  "  the  carriage  is  either 
broke  down  or  overJet." 

"  I  hope  not,  Dolly,"  fhe  replied,  going  to  the  win- 
dow to  lii'ten.  Before  Die  had  time  to  unbar  the  (but- 
ters and  raife  the  falh,  a  loud  ring  at  the  gate  an- 
nounced  an  unevnecled  viiitor.  It  was  the  perfon 
who  drove  the  carriage  ;  it  had  been  overturned  ;  a 
lady  in  it  was  hurt,  and  her  huiband  had  fent  him  to 
requeft  they  might  be  permitted  to  repofe  for  the 
night  irr  her  houfe,  as  the  carriage  had  been  fo  dam- 
aged as  to  render  it  impofiible  for  them  to  proceed  on 
their  journey. 

Mary  was  not  deficient  in  the  knowledge*  nor  back- 
ward in  the  performance  of  the  rites  of  hofpitality. 

"  The  ftrangers  (hall  be  welcome,  "  faid  fnc,  "  to 
every  accommodation  my  humble   manfion  affords." 

The  lady  had  fainted ;  for  her  arm  was  diflocated, 
and  the  pain  had  overcome  her  natural  fortitude. 
A  gentleman,  aflilled  by  his  fervant,  bore  her  into  the 
houfe  ;  their  drefs  ltruck  on  the  heart  of  Mary.  She 
went  to  the  fofa  on  which  the  fair  infenfible  was  laid, 
with  a  defign  of  administering  volatiles  and  a  reftora- 
tive  cordial.  She  raifed  her  head,  which  was  reclined 
on  her  hufoand's  fhoulder,  and  beheld  the  features  of 
Caffiah.      Her  hands  trembled,  her  check  turned  pale. 

"My 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  191 

♦«  My  coufin  I"  faid   ihe.     Mr.  Dudley  looked  at  her 
.  with  attention,  and,  though   decorated   in    the  habili- 
ments of  vanity,  recognised  the  conntenance  of  Mary 
Holmes. 

But  little  now  remains  to  be  told.  The  hurt  Caf- 
fiah  had  received,  confined  her  above  a  week,  during 
which  time  Mary  was  delivered  of  a  fon.  The  advice 
and  admonitions  of  her  friends  determined  her  to  ab- 
jure a  way  of  life,  into  which  (lie  had  been  firll  fedu» 
ced  by  want  of  resolution,  and  in  which,  want  of  refo- 
\  lution  alone  could  have  induced  her  to  continue. 

Bufinefs  of  importance  had   brought  Dudley  from 

the  country  ;  and,  prompted  at  once   by  afFeftion  for 

,  her  hufband,  and  a  wifti  to  fee  the  capital,  Cafiiah  was 

induced  to  accompany  him.     The  defned  ends  fully 

accomplished,  they  prepared  to  return. 

"Come,  Mary,"  faid  Cafiiah,  "throw  offthefc  trap- 
pings of  vanity  ;  they  become  not  the  penitent..  Ai- 
iume  the  drefs  of  fimplicity  and  purity,  in  which  thou 
wert  wont  to  appear.  Return  with  a  noble  firmnefs, 
to  the  man  who  feduced  thee,  the  wages  of  thy  guilt,  the 
price  of  thy  difhonour.  I  pray  thee,  Mary  Holmes, 
return  to  the  bofom  of  thy  friends,  to  the  paths  of  in- 
nocence and  virtue.  Albeit  thy  good  uncle  Obadtah 
is  no  more,  yet  I  and  my  brother  Hc/.ekiah  arc  his 
rcpiefcntatives.  Had  he  been  living,  and  thou  hadll 
returned  repentant,  he  would  have  exceedingly  rejoic- 
ed ;  would  have  killed  the  fatted  calf,  and  have  bid  his 
friends  and  neighbours  to  come  and  welcome  thee. 
And  fiiall  not  we  perform  the  will  of  our  deceased 
father  ?  Yea,  verily  will  we,  fincc  in  fo  doing  we  lhall 
alio  perform  the  will  of  our  Father  who  rs  in  heaven. 
Dear  Mary,  turn  not  a  deaf  ear  to  my  prayer ;  for 
the  ways  of  truth  are  the  ways  of  p'eafantnefs,  and 
where  innocence  dwells,  dwell:  aLo  peace  forever- 
more. 

Mary  mud  have  been  infenfible  indeed  to  have  re- 
jected the  earnelt  foKcitations  of  her  amiable  relation. 
Every  feeling  of  the  force  and  beauty  of  virtue  was 
now  powerfully  awakened  and  called  into  action.  She 
returned  the  fettlement  lhe  had  received  from  Fitzger- 
ald, 


192         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;    or, 

aid,  and  accompanied  Dudley  and  Cafliah  into  Lan- 
cashire, where  a  few  years  put  a  period  to  her  exig- 
ence. Mr.  Dudley  had  from  his  birth  adopted  her 
ion  Jacob  Holmes  ;  and  when  he  embarked  for  Amer- 
ica, Jacob  accompanied  him,  was  witnefs  to  every 
tranfaction  on  that  fide  the  Atlantic,  enjoyed  his  un- 
limited confidence,  and  when  he  propofed  returning  to 
Europe,  Jacob  was  entrufted  with  a  copy  of  his  will, 
the  title-deeds  of  the  newly  purchakd  eiiate,  and  left 
in  poifefllon  of  it,  with  directions  to  fpare  neither  colt 
.nor  pains  to  improve,  cultivate  and  beautify  it. 

■■<  ■<■■<  <  <«^  <$•  ^->  ►->>•►- 

CHAP.       IV. 

Things  as  they  were,  as  they  are,  and  as  they  ever  iviil  be. 

REUBEN  and  Rachel  had,  during  the  abfence  of 
their  father,  increafed  in  Mature,  and  improved 
in  mental  acquirements.  Their  perlons  were  much 
altered  for  the  better.  Rachel  was  now  approaching 
womanhood  ;  tall,  uraight,  and  well-proportioned. 
An  intelligent  animation  lighted  up  her  countenance, 
which  prepofielfed  the  beholder,  at  firlt  fight,  in  her 
favour.  It  was  that  kind  of  honeft  countenance  in 
which  you  might  read  every  emotion  of  the  heart,  and 
feemed  to  fay,  "  I  cannot  deceive  you,  if  I  would." 
Reuben  almoft  idolized  his  filter,  and  when  the  h 
I j days  permitted  his  annual  vifit,  never  were  three  h 
man  beings  more  fupcrlatively  happy,  than  the  brothe 
fitter,  and  aunt  RacheL  It  was  in  one  of  thefe  vilits, 
as  they  were  focially  feated  round  their  fire,  their  fam- 
ily party  enlivened  by  the  company  of  a  Mil's  Oliver, 
who  was  palling  the  winter  with  her  grandmother,  in 
the  r  ighbourhood,  when  a  letter  was  brought.  "  Ii 
is  from  your  father,"  find  aunt  Rachel ;  "  take  i 
Reuben,  and  read  it."  Reuben  broke  the  feal,  an 
read  as  follows. 

« Ir 


nd 
m- 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  193 

u  IT  is  with  fatisfaction  of  the  pureft  kind,  that  I 
take  up  my  pen  to  inform  my  dear  aunt  Rachel  and  my 
beloved  children,  that  the  bufmels  which  brought  me  to 
this  place  is  at  length  finifhed,  and  the  completion  of 
it  is  equal  to  my  mod  fanguine  expectations. 

"  The  purchafe  of  the  land,  (which  is  delightfully 
fituated  on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  within  a  pleaf- 
ant  ride  of  Philadelphia)  the  building  of  the  houfe, 
barn,  ftable,  &c.  in  fuch  a  ftyle  as  might  unite  a  de- 
gree of  fimple  elegance  with  convenience,  the  flock- 
ing the  farm,  and  other  contingencies,  have  led  mc 
rather  to  exceed  the  fum  I  firft  fat  out  with,  though 
that  was  greatly  augmented  by  trade  ;  and  I  have 
b^en  necefhtated  to  give  bills  oil  England  for  five  hun- 
dred pounds  ;  but  they  are  at  fuch  a  date  as  will  ena- 
ble me  to  reach  home  before  they  become  due,  or 
fliould  I  not,  I  have  given  my  agent,  Mr.  Atkins,  in- 
11  ructions  to  fell  part  of  the  Lancashire  eftate,  if  he  has 
not  in  his  hands  money  fufficient  to  pay  the  bills  With- 
out. Ymi  will,  therefore,  without  hefitation,  acqui- 
efce  in  whatever  arrangements  he  may  make  for  that 
purpofe. 

"  I  intend  embarking  for  England  about  the  end  of 
October,  and  hope  to  lee  you  all  before  the  new  year 
commences. 

"  I  iuppofe  my  darlings,  Reuben  and  Rachel,  arc 
aim  oil  grown  out  of  knowledge.  I  would  have 
ani'were.l  their  letters,  but  time  prefi'es.  I  am  pleafei 
with  their  evident  improvement  in  writing  and  orthog- 
raphy. Tell  Reuben  here  will  be  an  ample  field  rbr 
his  afpiring  and  inquifitive  genius.  Tell  him,  at  the 
fame  time,  I  wiih  him  ever  to  afpire  to  be  eminently 
good  ;  for  that  only  can  render  him  eminently  great. 
Tell  my  deareft  Rachel,  that  if  fhe  emulates  the  vir- 
tues and  perfections  of  her  fainted  mother,  ilie  will  be 
every  thing  that  is  amiahle.  Fare  thee  well.  May 
the  Creator  and  Preferver  of  the  Univcrfe  guard,  pro- 
tect,  and  keep  you  all.  R    DIJDLEY> 

"  P.  S.-     I  fh  ill  leave   Jacob  Holmes  in  care  of  my 

eftato  here.     I  (hall  alfo  leave  hjna  a  trifle  to  put  him 

S  in 


194        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

in  a  little  way  of  bufinefs,  that  by  prudence  and  in- 
duftry  he  may  render  himfclf  independent.  The  man 
who  depends  for  the  neceifuries  of  life  on  a  patron, 
can  never  a(fert  that  freedom  of  fpirit  which  is  the 
natural  prerogative  of  every  human  being.  Jacob  is 
ferious,  afiiduous,  and  fcrupulouily  confeicntious  in  all 
his  dealings.  I  have  placed  an  unlimited  confidence 
in  him,  and  am  firm  in  the  belief  that  he  will  never 
abufe  it.     Once  more,  God  bid's  you." 

"  So  then,"  faid  Reuben,  his  fine  eyes  beaming  with 
pleafure,  "  lb  then,  my  father  intends  that  we  lhall  all 
go  to  America.  Well,  I  always  carneiUy  wiihed  to 
go,  and  I  find  I  fliall  be  gratified." 

"  Bttt  brother,"  faid  Rachel,  "  look  at  the  date  of 
my  father's  letter,  and  remember  what  he  laid  about 
failing  in  October:  vhy,  my  dear  brother,  he  will  be 
home  very  foon." 

"  He  may  arrive  in  a  few  days,"  faid   aunt  Rachel. 

"  A  few  days  !"  cried  Reuben  eagerly,  "  why  he 
may  arrive  this  very  night." 

"  Oh  dear  !   dear  Reuben,  do  you  think  fo  :" 

"Yes;  and  perhaps  in  fix  weeks  or  two  months 
time  we  may  be  all  on  the  Atlantic  ocean.  Blefs  me  ! 
Mifs  Oliver,  are  you  not  well  r" 

This  quefiion  and  exclamation,  which  Reuben  ad- 
drefied  to  their  fair  vifivor,  was  extorted  by  hidden  fur- 
pVife.  He  had  carnally  glanced  his  eye  towards  her 
as  he  was  fpeaking,  and  beheld  her  interefting  counte- 
nance pale  as  allies. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Jelly  Oliver  ?"  faid  Rachel, 
whofc  attention  was  awakened  by  her  brother's  qud- 
tion  ;  "  is  the  room  too  warm  ?" 

"  No  !  no  !  my  dear,"  faid  Jcfiy  in  tremulous  ac- 
cents ;  "  only  !  only  !  indeed  I  don't  know  what  ails 
me  ;  but  I  was  fei/.ed 

"  With  a  hidden  ficknefs  at  the  mention  of  the  At- 
lantic ocean,"  faid  Hezekiah  Penn,  who  had  been 
Imoking  his  pipe  in  one  corner  of  the  room. 

The  dry  manner  in  which  he  fpoke,  the  look  he  raft 
towards  her,  recalled  the  rofes  to  die  cheeks  of  Jeffy. 

*  She 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.         195 

She  affecled  to  laugh  at  the  idea ;  but  it  was  not  the 
laugh  of  nature.  Her  heart  was  full,  and  her  eyes 
had""  nearly  betrayed  its  feelings.  Reuben  was  at  firft 
furprifed  ;  but  he  looked  on  the  confulcd  fair  one, 
and  an  idea  crofTed  his  mind  which  gave  birth  to  a 
fentiment  which  could  not  be  extinguifhed   but   widi 

life. 

JefTy  Oliver  was  two  years  older  than  onr  hero  and 
heroine  ;  extremely  lovely  in  her  perfon,  accomplifhed 
in  her  manners,  and  endowed  with  an  underftanding 
far  fuperior  to  the  generality  of  her  fee  She  was  fe- 
date  beyond  her  years  j  but  that  fedatcnefs  was  the 
offspring  of  forrow,  occafioned  by  the  lofs  of  her  moth- 
er when  fhe  was  about  twelve  years  old  ;  foon  after 
which,  her  father  unthinkingly  united  himfelf  with  a 
young,  volatile  woman  of  quality,  who,  though  fhe 
brought  him  a  very  ample  fortune,  yet  by  her  ex* 
truvagancc,  threatened  him  with  ruin,  and  by  be*  lcv- 
t\ ,  with  dilhonour. 

fciiy  had  a  brother,  one  year  younger  than  hei 
Archibald  Oliver  was  clafTmate  witli  Reuben,  as 
twice  invited  him  to  his  father's  country-home,  - 
was  in  0\fo}\l{hi;c,  to  pajfc  a  few  Jays  in  ;he  jni( 
mer  vacation.  This  frYendfhjp  between  the  3 
men  naturally  led  to  an  intimacy  with  the  fifter  ; 
JefTy,  without  a  -bought  which  fhe  would  bluih  tc 
was  tenderly  attached  to  Reuben. 

Her  lituation  at  home  became  difagreeable  in  the 
extreme.  Fond  of  reading,  drawing,  needle-work, 
and  every  elegant  domeftic  employment ;  without  al- 
legation ;  delicate  in  her  manners  and  converiation, 
and  fmcerely  pious  ;  it  cannot  be  imagined  that  Jeff: 
could  find  pleafure  in  the  fociety  of  a  woman,  igno- 
rant, difhpatcd  and  irreligious. 

To  her  maternal  grandmother  fhe  wrote,  in  confi- 
dence, the  mifcries  of  her  fituation,  and  received  from 
her  an  invitation  to  pafs  the  winter  with  her  in  Lan- 
cashire. Perhaps  the  vifit  was  not  anticipated  with 
lei's  fatisfaction  becaufe  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
family  of  Reuben  Dudley.  Not  that  JefTy  was  con- 
fcious  of  being  too  partial  to  him  ;  but  that  fhe  ex- 
pected 


196         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  e*, 

peeled  much  pleafure  from  the  focicty  of  his  filter  and 
.iunt,  of  whom  ihe  had  often  heard  him  fpeak  with  cn- 
thufiafm. 

She  was  charmed  with  the  unaffected  na'wette  of 
Rachel,  und  the  more  (lie  knew  of  her  the  more  Ihe 
loved  her  ;  and  though  unperceived  by  herfelf,  the 
friendship  flie  conceived  for  the  filter  ftrengthened  her 
partiality  for  the  brother.  Their  perfons  were  alike, 
as  much  fo  as  it  was  pollible  for  a  face  truly  feminine, 
ilrikingly  to  refcmble  one  whole  features  are  mere 
marked,  more  manly,  more  expreflive  of  character. 

JelTy  looked  at  Rachel  with  admiration.  "How  much 
you  are  like  your  brother,"  Hie  would  fay.  Alas ! 
poor  Jelly  ;  flie  was  unconfeious,  that  it  was  that  rc- 
fc.ublance  which  chiefly  drew  her  heart,  with  irrclifti- 
bie  power,  towards  her  new  friend.  The  mind  of  Jef- 
fy  was  as  pure  as  the  chafte  dew  which  glitters  in  an 
April  morn  upon  the  bofom  of  a  half-blown  fnow- 
clrop ;  and  when  with  undilfenibled  joy  (lie  flew  to 
meet  him  on  his  arrival  in  Lancafhire,  and  prefented 
her  hand  and  finding  mouth  to  greet  him,  it  was  with 
the"  fenfations  of  a  feraph  who  welcomes  a  kindred 
fiii  it  to  the  manfions  of  the  bleft. 

Oh  why  !  why  !  is  this  pure,  this  unimpallioned  in- 
tercourfe  between  the  fexes,  fo  rare,  as  to  be  almoll  in- 
credible ?  Alas  !  it  is-  a  humiliating  truth  to  own ; 
but  human  nature  is  fo  weak,  fo  liable  to  error,  that 
its  pureil  emotions  may  be  conftrued  into  guilt,  and, 
confeious  of  our  own  imbecility,  we  tremble  for  the 
firmnefs  of  another.  Befides,  wherever  beauty,  fenfe,. 
or  merit  dwells,  there  envy  hovers  round,  with  hag- 
gard eye,  and  pale,  diftorted  brow  ;  the  poifon  falling 
from  her  baleful  tongue  difcolours  every  object,  and 
calls  on  even  innocence  itfelf  a  fallow,  doubtful  hue. 
Oh !  how  happy,  how  fuperlatively  happy,  is  the 
youthful,  inexperienced,  yet  fufccptible  bofom  ! 

Cbarm'd  with  each  object  that  it  meets, 

Blythe  as  the  vernal  morn, 
It  from  the  rofe  inhales  the  fwects, 

Nor  feels  nor  dreads  the  thorn  ; 
When  hope,  unfetter'd,  yure  as  light, 

Tree  as  the  palling  wind, 

Bour.us 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         197 

Bounds  forward  dill  with  chafte  delight, 
Nor  fet-s  the  ftorm,  nor  heeds  the  night, 
That  threatens  dole  behind. 

Thus  pure,  thus  fufceptible,  thus  fearlefs  of  evil, 
were  the  hearts  of  Reuben,  Rachel,  and  their  fair  friend 
Jclf/  Oliver';  when  on  the  evening  juft  mentioned,  the 
reception  of  the  letter,  the  eagernefs  Reuben  exprefled 
to  embark  for  America,  and  the  remark  uncle  Heze- 
kiah  made  on  the  fudden  ficknefs  of  Jelly,  awakened 
new  ideas  in  the  breads  of  all. 

Reuben  had  folded  up  his  father's  letter,  returned  it 
to  his  aunt,  and  fcated  himfelf  befide  Jelly,  took  her 
pafiive  hand,  and  feemed  for  a  moment  bulled  in 
counting  over  and  over  again,  the  beautifully  while 
and  finely  tapering  fingers.  Rachel  feated  herfelf  on 
the  other  lide,  and  allied,  with  innocent  earneftneis, 
"  if  (he  was  not  better  now." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Jelly,  almofl  unconfeious  that  flic 
fpoke  at  all. 

"  I  thought  you  were,"  faid  Rachel,  with  the  great- 
eft  (implicity  ;  "  for  the  colour  is  returned  to  year  lips 
and  cheeks." 

The  remark  did  not  make  her  paler.  And  when 
uncle  Hezekiah,  adjulling  his  broad-brimmed  beaver, 
and  putting  on  his  great  coat,  bade  Reuben  talk  no 
more  of  the  Atlantic  ocean,  America,  and  fuch  fright- 
ful things,  the  lily  was  entirely  exchanged  for  the  car- 
nation. 

lIe:'c.klah.v-c-.-,t   to  the   door,   with    a   defign  to   go 

home  ;  his  horie   had  been  preVjiouily    brought   out. 

"But  he  Opened  the   door,  and  ordering  the  poor  bcalt 

back  to   the  (table,  returned   to  the  parlour,   and  pro- 

d  that  it  (tormed  tremendoufly. 

"  Does  the  wind  blow  very  hard  uncle  •"  faid 
Rachel. 

"Yes,"  replied  Hezekiah,  deliberately  leating  him- 
felf, and  fill  .her  pipe. 

"And  does  i:  hlowon  (Lore  .?"  flud   aunt    Rachel, 

who,  having  experienced  the  dangers  of  the  fca  hcr- 

i.Il  more  fenfibly  the  perils  to  which  her  nephew 

S  2        (  might 


198        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  a*, 

might  be  expofed,  fhould  he  be  coming  near  the  land 
on  fuch  a  flormy  night. 

"  It  blows  itrongly  from  the  fea,"  faid  Hezekiah, 
drawing  in  a  vaft  quantity  of  fmoke,  and  then  fuffer- 
ing  it  gradually  to  evaporate,  as  it  efcaped  in  fmall 
curling  clouds  from  his  mouth. 

As  he  fpoke,  a  fudden  gulf  rufhed  impetuoufly  by 
the  houfe,  and  fhook  the  apartment  in  which  they  were 
fitting. 

"  Does  it  fnow  or  rain,  brother  ?"  faid  Rachel. 
"  It  mows,"    faid    Hezekiah,  not   giving    Reuben 
time  to  reply  ;  "  it  fnows,  and  is  very  dark  indeed." 
At  that  moment,  the  difcharge  of  a  dflrant  cannon 
was  heard ;  and   Hezekiah,  dafhing  his  pipe  on  the 
hearth,  ftarted  from  his  feat,  and   exclaimed,  "  There 
is  fome  fhip  in  diltrefs."     Before  any  one  could  reply, 
another  and  another  gun  was  heard,  and  the  fervant  and 
carriage  arriving  for  Mifs  Oliver,  they  were  informed 
that  a  ihip  had  been  feen  in  the  ofEng,  before  dark,  as 
it  was  fuppofed,   endeavouring  to  make   the  port  of 
Liverpool  ;  but  that  fhe   appeared  much   difabled   in 
her  mafts,  yards  and  rigging,  and  it  was  imagined  fhe 
was  now  on  fhore,  or  in  imminent  danger. 

It  was  not  the  remonftrances  or  entreaties  of  his 
friends,  that  could  now  reftrain  the  impetuofity  of 
Reuben.  He  was  prepofferfed  with  the  idea  that  his 
father  was  in  the  vert'el*  and  he  would  fet  off  immedi- 
ately for  Liverpool.  He  might  be  enabled  to  fend  re- 
lief to  the  diftreired  mariners. 

"Oh!  my  dear  brother,  it  is  impoffible,"  faid  Ra- 
chel ;  "  only  hear  how  the  wind  roars." 

"  I  do  hear  it,"  he  replied  mournfully,  "  and  every 
blaft  feems  to  fay,  Reuben,  thy  father  is  periihing." 

A  momentary  filence  now  enfued,  when  Hezekiah 
propofed  going  with  his  nephew.  "  I  do  not  think," 
faid  he,  "  that  we  tan  render  them  any  fcrvice;  but  fuf- 
penfe  is  painful,  and  we  may  at  leaft  learn  earlier  in- 
telligence of  the  fate  of  the  vcffel  and  her  unfortunate 
crew  ;  difcover  from  whence  fhe  came,  and  what  paf- 
ftnecrs  were  on  board." 

5  •'  Then 


t  ■?  -  «*-» 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  199 

"  Then  promife  you  will  not  attempt  to  go  off  in 
a  boat,  my  dear  Reuben,"  faid  Rachel. 

"  Oh  heavens  !  he  will  not  furely  think  of  fuch  a 
thing,"  exclaimed  Mifs  Oliver. 

"  Silly  children,"  faid  He/.ekiah,  "  do  not  raiic  im- 
aginary miieries  to  afflict  yourfclves  with.  If  he  was 
fo  mad  as  to  wilh  to  do  fo,  he  would  not  find  any  one 
mad  enough  to  carry  him." 

The  hori'es  were  now  at  the  door.  Reuben  handed 
Mifs  Oliver  to  her  carriage,  and  then,  accompanied  by 
Hezekiah,  made  all  pcflible  fpecd  to  Liverpool ;  whilll 
aunt  Rachel  and  her  niece  paffed  the  night  in  traven- 
ing  the  apartment,  liftening  to  the  ftorm,  and  ejacu- 
lating fervent  prayers  for  the  preservation  of  the  un- 
happy iailors,  whofe  perils  (they  were  aiTured  by  the 
repeated  difcharge  of  guns)  tl ill  continued.  Neither 
of  them  attempted  to  reft  ;  they  fpoke  but  little,  but 
each  in  lilence  indulged  her  own  melanchol)  thoughts. 
Aunt  Rachel  had,  added  to  die  anxiety  (he  felt  for 
her  nephew's  fafety,  a  prcfentiment  that,  ihould  any 
thing  happen  to  him,  his  children  would  be  involved 
in  very  difagreeable  circumftances.  Mr.  Dudley  had 
not  entrufted  her  with  the  exact  fituation  of  his  affairs 
previous  to  his  leaving  England.  He  had  told  her 
ihe  might  draw  on  his  agent,  Atkins,  for  two  hundred 
pounds  each  year,  and  that  Atkins  had  alio  orders  to 
pay  for  Reuben's  education,  and  defray  all  his  ex- 
penfes  ;  but  (he  knew  that  the  bill;  half  year  of  Reu- 
ben's board  remained  unpaid,  and  lhe  had  hcrftlf  re- 
ceived a  letter,  recommending  prudence  to  her,  and 
hinting,  Ihould  Mr.  Dudley  extend  his  ftay  abroad 
another  fix  months,  he,  Atkins,  ihould  not  be  able  to 
fivpply  the  money  ncceifary  for  houfe-keeping. 

This  had  previoufly  given  birth  to  many  uneafy  re- 
jections ;  and  now  that  fhe  found  he  had  drawn  for  fo 
large  a  funi,  and  given  Atkins  unlimited  power  to  fell 
or  mortgage  part  of  the  Lancaihire  eftate,  lhe  fear- 
ed, Ihould  any  fatal  accident  prevent  his  reaching 
England,  Reuben  and  Rachel  might  be  fevere  fuffer- 
ers,  in  more  ways  than  the  lofs  cf  a  father. 

For 


2oo         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  op, 

For  hcrfelf,  ihe  had  no  fears  ;  and  though  the  hal 
of  that  eftate  conftituted  the  whole  of  her  worldly  pot 
ieffions,  yet  fuch  was  the  native  philanthropy  of  her 
mind,  fo  little  was  felf  regarded,  and  with  fuch  en- 
thufiafm  did  flie  regard  the  offspring  of  her  lamented 
brother  William,  that  to  fupply  the  fmalleft  of  their 
wants,  (he  would  have  cheerfully  diverted  hcrfclf  of 
even  the  common  neceffaries  of  life. 

•Aunt  Rachel  was  now  nearly  approaching  her  fix- 
ty-fiflh  year  ;  'out  temperance,  cheerfulnefs,  and  a  do- 
cent  competence,  joi.icd  to  a  constitution  him  by  na- 
ture, had  given  even  to  this  advanced  period,  ftrength 
of  mtelleci,  hilarity  of  ipirits,  and  uncommon  perfonal 
vigour. 

In  reflections  like  thofe  juft  mentioned  oh  her  part, 
and  earneft  prayers  for  her  father's  fafety  and  her 
•brother's-return  on  the  part  of  Rachel,  was  the  weari- 
fome  night  patted.  Towards  morning  the  ftorm  aba- 
ted, and  the  fun  arofe  in  a  clear,  unclouded  horizon  ; 
but  the  ravages  of  the  temped  were  to  be  feen  ;  lev- ' 
end  trees  were  lying  on  the  ground,  torn  from  their 
roots  by  the  violence  of  the  wind.  A  barn  had  been 
unroofed  during  the  night,  and  the  chimney  of  a  neigh- 
•bouring  cottage  blown  down, 

"I  wonder  my  brother  don't  return,"  faid  Rachel. 

"  I  wifh  he  may  bring  us  good  news  when  he  does 
come,"  replied  her  aunt. 

From  the  rtfirig  of  the  fur.,  till  it  pa/fed  the  meridi- 
an, Rachel  fcarcely  for  a  moment  quitted  the  window 
that  looked  towards  the  road.  At  length,  about  three 
o'clock,  lac  few  her  brother  flowlv  winding  down  the 
hill. 

"  Ah !  my  dear  aunt,  here  comes  Reuben,"  cried 
■fhe. 

"  But  he  comes  not  like  the  meflenger  cf  joy,"  re- 
plied aunt  Rachel. 

"  He  is  weary,  aunt."  The  affectionate  filler  ran 
to  open  the  door,  and  receive  her  brother. 

"  What  news,  my  dear  Reuben  :"  faid  Ihc  eagerly, 
as  he  led  her  into  the  parlour. 

"The  veflbl  is  loft  !"  he  replied. 

"  And 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  201 

"  And  the  crew  ?" 

"  All  perifhed." 

"  Did  you  learn  where  fhe  is  fuppofed  to  be  from  ?" 
faid  aunt  Rachel. 

"  A  pilot  boat,  that  palled  her  yefterday  morning, 
brought  intelligence  ihe  was  from  America,  but  not 
what  particular  port." 

"  Had  they  no  pilot  on  board  :" 

"  Yes,  and  he  lias  perifhed  with  them." 

The  tears  darted  into  Reuben's  eyes  as  he  fpoke  ; 
Rachel  wept  audibly.  Their  sumt  took  a  hand  from 
eacli. 

"  Weep  not,  my  children,"  laid  fhe,  "  but  truft  in 
God.  It  it  has  pleafed  him  to  deprive  you  of  your 
father,  he  is  able  to  fupply  his  place.  Look  up  to 
him,  my  children  ;  worihip  him,  ferve  him,  obey  him, 
in  fmcerity  of  heart.  Pic  may  of  his  infinite  wifdom 
arflicfl ;  but  remember,  and  let  it  fill  your  fouls  with 
humble  hope  and  comfort,  that  his  chailifemeiits  are 
but  temporal ;  but  his  rewards  to  thofe  who  love  him, 
eternal." 

"  Then   you  think   wc  are   orphans  ?"  faid  Rachel. 

"  I  think,"  replied  her  aunt,  "  that  it  is  more  than 
probable  your  father  was  in  the  (hip  which  was  laft: 
night  loft." 

Two  days  from  this  pafled,  and  no  certain  intelli- 
gence could  be  procured.  Sometimes  they  encour- 
aged a  dawn  of  hope,  and  then  again  rclapfed  into 
defpair.  Rachel  was  the  earliell  rifer  in  the  family  ; 
ihe  had  been  up  above  an  hour  when  the  newfpaper 
was  brought,  as  it  was  cuftomary  twice  a  week  from 
Liverpool.  She  took  it  from  the  fervant,  and  as  ihe 
held  it  to  the  fire  to  dry,  the  following  paragraph  met 

her   eyes. ""U'e   are  at   length    certain,    th;tt    the 

large  ihip  which  was  loft  on  Monday  night  laft,  en- 
deavouring to  get  into  this  harbour,  was  the  Aurora, 
of  London,  from  Philadelphia.  Two  men,  who  prov- 
identially cfcaped,  brought  the  melancholy  intelli- 
gence of  the  captain,  mate,  ten  hand*  and  fourteen 
paffengers  haying  periihed  j  amongft  the  Jattei 
Mr.  Reuben  Dudley." 

Rachel 


202  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Rachel  read  no  more.  The  paper  fell  from  her 
hands,  and  fenfe,  feeling,  almoft  life  itfeif,  was  for  a 
while  fuipended.  She  funk  on  the  flow,  her  head 
refted  on  the  elbow  of  lier  aunt's  eafy  chair,  her  eyes 
were  open,  but  ihe  was  as  devoid  of  fpecch  and  mo- 
tion as  a  (latue.  In  this  fituation  her  brother  found 
her.  "My  filler!  my  dear  Rachel!''  lie  exclaimed, 
eagerly  railing  her.  His  voice  recalled  her  fleeting 
feflfes.  She  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck,  faintly 
-iiliculated,  "  Out  father  !  our  beloved  father!''  and 
nature  relieved  her  bu.ril.ing  heart  by  a  violent  gulh 
of  tears. 

Aunt  Rachel  was  prepared  for  the  intelligence  ; 
her  heart  had  prefaged  it  from  the  firft.  She  bore  it 
with  die  fortitude  of  a  Chrillian,  though  ihe  felt  it  as 
acutely  as  her  niece.  But  ihe  had  learnt  to  reprefs 
her  feelings,  and  to  bow  with  rengnation  to  tbe  will 
of  an  aJJUwife  Providence- 


C  H  A  P.      V. 

"  Sfift  as  the  filver  clews  thar  reft 

On  flow'rs  that  fcent  the  morning  air  ; 

So  fyf-t,  fo'fwcct,  to  foiTow's  Ircair, 
Is  FneiuUhip's  fiaaile  and  Pity's  tear." 

T  may  naturally  be  fuppofed,  that  when  the  heavy 
misfortune  Reuben  and  Rachel  had  fuftained  was 
univcrfally  known,  condolements  of  form  and  fafhiofl 
poured  in  upon  them,  and  fome  few  offered  confola- 
lion  with  fincerity,  and  participated  in  their  afflictions 
with  feelings  truly  philanthropic.  Amongft  the  lat- 
ter dais  was  Mils  Oliver.  She  was  lb  fenfibly  : 
ed  by  the  lofs  they  had  experienced  in  the  death  of 
their  father,  that  nearly  a  week  elapfed  before  fhc  could 
fummon  fortitude  fufficient  to  enable  her  to  pay  them  a 
vifit.  At  length,  her  with  to  adminifter  comfort  tri- 
umphed over  the  fear  fhe  had  entertained  of  the  an- 
guiih  ihe  mud  ncceiTarily  encounter  in  the  interview. 

She 


TALES    o?    OLD    TIMES.         205 

She  arofe  with  a  rcfolution  of  patting  the  day  with 
Rachel,  took  an  early  breakfaft,  and  by  nine  o'clock 
was  at  her  habitation. 

Anguiih  of  heart  had  lb  enervated  the  mental  facul- 
ties of  our  heroine,  that  Ihe  no  longer  aroie  with  the 
lark,  fought  employment  with  avidity,  or  purfucd  it 
with  alacrity.  "  Why  fhould  I  work  ?"  ihe  would 
fay  ;  "  I  have  no  expedition  now  to  cheer  me  ;  no 
fond  hope  of  a  returning  father's  fmilcs  and  npproba- 
tion  rewarding  my  labours."  Her  mind  occupied  by 
reflections  fuch  as  thefe,  Rachel  gave  more  hours  to 
her  pillow  than  was  her  ufual  cttflorh  ;  not  that  fhc 
found  there  the  1  it  ihe  fought  f  ut  there  fhe  could 
weep  unrellrained,  there  foe  could  uninterruptedly  in- 
dulge in  contemplation.  Aral  if  liaply  ileep  for  a  few 
hours  deeped  hei  fenfes  in  forgetiulncfs,  flic  blefled  the 
fweet  oblivion,  I  cOUrtied  ; ts  lurn.  She  was  feat- 
cd  at  the  breakiuit  tabic  wh<  '  ivcr  entered. 

"  Jeffy!"  faid  ihe  mournfi:  I  and  half  rifmg  to  pre* 
fent  her  hand  ;  but  overcome  by  the  ferdhtibhs  which 
iiifhed  on  her  foul,  (lie  funk  ag.no  oil  her  feat. 

Mils  Oliver  took  the  proffered  hand,  prcilcd  it  ten- 
derly, feated  herfelf  befide  her,  but  was  filcnt.  Yet 
her  ipeaking  eye  met  the  glance  of  Rachel's  ;  its  cx- 
prcfiion  conveyed  hlore  than  was  in  the  power  of 
words  ;  it  faid,  in  the  rnoit  Intelligent  language,  Dear 
Rachel,  I  feel,  I  participate  your  forrows. 

It  was  the  confolalion  turd  congenial  to  the  foul  it 
meant  to  addreft,  Rachel  felt  its  fmcerity,  its  ener- 
gy, and  was  relieved.  Oh  !  laid  ihe  mentally,  hew 
far  preferable  is  this  to  the  profufion  of  words,  with 
which  the  unfeeling  attempt  to  confole  me.  She  re- 
turned the  preHuie  of  Jcffy's  hand  ;  a  few  tears  efcap- 
ed  from  her  eyes  ;  Reuben  killed  them  oil,  and  fear- 
ing himfelf  oppolite  the  two  charming  young  women, 
qpntemplated  them  till  his  own  eyes  were  fulfilled  ; 
and  the  fuffufiou  did  honour  to  his  heart,  to  nature, 
to  veafon,  to  manhood  ! 

How  long  this  filence  might  have  continued,  is  un- 
certain ;  but  it  was  abruptly  interrupted  by  aunt  Ra- 
chel, who  entered  the  apartment,  followed  by  a  di- 
minutive 


2Q4        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

minutive  figure  habited  in  a  grey  coat,  black  watfU 
coat  and  breeches,  an  immenfe  and  not  very  fafhiona- 
ble  peruke,  high  boots,  a  very  deep  pair  of  ruffles,  and 
a  long  neckcloth  twilled  through  the  fourth  button- 
hole of  his  waiftcoat. 

This  extraordinary  perfonage  appeared  to  be  about 
fifty  years  old.  His  black  eyes,  which  were  not  the 
lefs  penetrating  for  being  extremely  fmall,  darted  their 
glances  at  the  three  interefting  figures  that  prefented 
themfelves  in  the  perfons  of  Reuben,  Rachel,  and  Mifs 
Oliver. 

He  bowed  profoundly  on  entering.  Rachel  rofe 
from  her  feat.  Her  forrows  fecmed  to  retire  within 
her  heart,  and  a  dignified  compofure  took  poffeffion  of 
her  features,  as  ihe  received  and  returned  his  compli- 
ment1;. 

"  This  gentleman  comes  from  Mr.  Atkins,"  faid 
aunt  Rachel,  as  pointing  to  the  fofa  on  which  Reuben 
had  fat,  fhe  motioned  for  him  to  be  feated.  "  His 
name,  I  underfhmd,  is " 

"  Aliibi,  at  your  fervice,"  faid  he,  bowing  again, 
and  recovering  himfelf  with  an  air  of  cenfequence  ;  as 
if  he  had  faid,  I  believe  I  am  pretty  univerfally  known. 
"  Mr.  Dudley,  I  prefume,"  turning  toward  Reuben, 
"  and  Mifs  Dudley,  his  charming  lifter,  (bowing  to 
Rachel)  if  I  may  judge  from  your  mourning  habits. 
Give  me  leave  to  condole  with  you  on  the  unfortu- 
nate cataftrophe  of  our  mutual  friend.  But  man  is 
'.  orn  to  die  ;  Co  regret  is  ufelefs.  Permit  me,  there- 
fore, to  congratulate  you  on  your  acceflion  to  his  for- 
tune." 

The  mention  of  her  father  had  called  forth  the 
{mothered  fallibility  of  Rachel  ;  but  the  conclufion 
repelled  it  by  routing  her  indignation. 

"  Congratulate  ?"  faid  fhc,  in  a  voice  fcarcely  ar- 
ticulate. 

"  Congratulate  I"'  echoed  Reuben,  and  his  fine 
countenance  glowed,  his  eyes  darted  refentment.  "  Sir, 
we  are  the  children  of  Mr.  Dudley,  his  natural  off* 
fpring,  reared  by  his  care,  nurtured,  by  his  love,   and 

taught 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         205 

taught  by  his  wifdom.  Who  then  fhall  dare  infult 
us  r"  And  he  role  frc  m  his  feat,  laid  one  hand 
on  his  brcaft,  and  with  the  other  motioned  as  though 
•brandiihing  a  weapon.  "  Who  (hall  dare  infult  us  by 
congratulation  for  his  death  ?     Oh  !   my  father  !" 

"My  dear,  loft  father'!"  repeated  Rachel. 

"  My  afflitfed  friends,"  faid  MHs  Oliver,  foftly. 

It  was  a  {<:snc  lb  new,  the  manners  and  fentimenu 
of  the  young  trio  were  fo  elevated,  as  to  be  almoft  un- 
intelligible to  Allibi.  He  figetted  on  his  feat,  hem- 
med at  lcaft  hah' a  dozen  times,  and  at  length  he  be- 
gan with  hefitatjon — 

"  I  btg  pardon.  I  prott  ft  I  did  not  mean — that 
is,  I  did  not  know.  But  as  1  was  faying,  young  Mr. 
Reuben  Dudley,  and  his  fifter  Mil's  Rachel  Dudley, 
.being  twin  brother  and  fifter,  and  in  the  eye  of  the 
law  joint  heirs  of  the  poflcOions  and  eftates,  cf  what 
kind  foevcr,  that  is  to  fay,  of  money,  plate,  jewels, 
landed  property,  houfes,  merchandize,  <  r  what  not, 
belonging  or  appertaining  to  their  late  father,  Reuben 
Dudley,  deceafed " 

"Oh  heavens!"  faid  Rachel,  folding  her  hand, 
acrofs  her  brealr,  as  if  to  accelerate  her  breathing, 
which  was  evidently  laboured. 

•'  My  dear  creature  !"  faid  Mifs  Oliver,  in  the  ac- 
cent of  commifcration. 

"Good  Sir,  be  expeditious  in  explaining  the  nature 
•of  your  bui'mefs,"  faid  Reuben  ;  and  he  walked  to  the 
other  end  of  the  room   to  conceal  his   own  emotions. 

Allibi  with  the  fame  fung  froid  proceeded. — "You 
being,  as  I  have  before  faid,  co-heirs,  do  thereby  ftand 
anfwerable  for  all  debts  contracted  by,  or  owing  from 
the  faid  Reuben  Dudley,  deceafed." 

"Granted,"  laid  Reuben,  haftily.  "Pray  come  t« 
your  ronc'lution. 

"The  conclafion  is,"  f.dd  ATIibi,  deliberately  draw* 
ing  forth  his  pocket  book,  "  that  you  muft  of  confe- 
<r  ien.ee  pay  t'his  bill  of  five  hundred  pound;,  which 
your  lather  drew  previous  to  Ids  leaving  America,  on 
my  client  Andrew  Atkins.  Nov.-  he,  Andrew  Atkins, 
having  no  property  whatever  hi  hts  hands  wherewith 
T  •• 


2o6         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;    or, 

to  difcharge  this  demand*  and  being  empowered  by 
your  fatlier  before  the  bite  fatal  cataftrophe  to  fell, 
mortgage,  or  otberwife  difpofe  of  die  Lanqaihire  cl- 
tate,  in  order  to  liquidate  this  and  other  debts  be  bad 
contracted,  1  am  feat  by  him,  my  client,  the  faid 
drew  Atkins,  to  inquire  \  will  be  convenient 

for  you  to  difcharge  th<  hiii  ;  or  in  cafe  cf  non-ability 
on  your  part,  i  am  :  |  wered  l  ..  poffeffion  of 
the  faici  ftal  :s  i  i  the  part  of  my  client,  the  faid  An- 
drew Atkins,  in  i  rder  that  he  may  mortgage,  fell,  or 
Otherwife  diipofe  of  it,  to  enable  him  to  nfwer  this 
•  ther  demands  which  ma 
"  1  fuppofe,"  faid  aunt  Rachel,  t:  ;  ou  know  that 
half  the  eftate  is  mine." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  faid  the  man  of  law,  "  I 
know  r.o  fuch  thing.  The  late  Mr.  Reuben  Dudley 
icd  from  liis  'grandmother,  the  lady  Arabella 
Rutlwen,  wife  to  Edward  I  >udlej  ,  v.  ho  wont  to  Amer- 
ica in  the  year  1645  ;  arid  as  the  faid  Reuben  wa 
only  male  descendant  of  the  faid  Arxahella,   and  lbe 

dying  inteftate " 

"  Sir,"  faid  Reuben  haftily,  "■  the  eftate  is  half  my 
aunt's ;  we  wiih  not  to  conteft  it.  It  is,  it  mull  be 
her's,  by  all  the  rules  of  juitice." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  juitice,"  faid  Allibi  ;  "  the 
law,  the  law,  Sir,  is  my  profeffion." 

I  thought,  Sir,  law  and  equity  were  fynonimous 
terms." 

"  You  are  a  very  young  man,  Mr.  Dudley,  very 
young,  very  inexperienced  ;  when  you  are  older,  you 
will  be  wifer." 

Reuben  could  not  anfwer  ;  a  look  of  pointed  con- 
tempt fully  expreifed  his  fentiments.-  Allibi  continued  : 
"And  lb,  Sir,  yourfelf  and  lifter  being  minors,  it  ig 
neceliary  to  throw  the  cftate  into  Chancery,  when,  af- 
ter your  father's  debts  are  difcharged,  the  refidue  will 
be  paid  to  you  when  of  age." 

•  "  And  in  the   mean  time  how  are   we  to  live,"  faid 
Rachel. 

"  Oh  !  my  dear  young  lady,  you  have  friends, 
yrcaltby  relations.     You  have  alio  youth,  beauty 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  207- 

may  command  a  home  in  twenty  different  families,  and 
in  fo  doing  confer  a  favour.  Well,  Mr.  Dudley,  I 
prefume  from  your  filence  that  you  caanot  pay  theft 
five  hundred  pounds  ?" 

Reuben  bowed  his  head. 

"  I  imagined  it  would  be  fo,  and  have  brought  down 
people  to  ""take  poircflion  of  the  houlc,  plate,  flock, 
farming  utenfils,  &c.  and  mull  beg  yon  will  fcm<  re 
as  foon  as  may  be  convenient.  With  )onr  leave, 
(rifing  and  putting  on  his  hat)  I  will  take  an  inv. 
ry  of  the  family  plate  which  1  law  in  the  beaufet  in 
the  next  room." 

He  drew  forth  his  pen,  ink,  and  folded  paper,  and 
without  waiting  for  the  leave  he  had  requeued,  walk- 
ed into  the  adjoining  apartment. 

"Alas!  alas!"  cried  Rachel,  "  whither  fhall  we 
<r0  ?  Who  will  receive  us  ?  Where  fhall  we  find  either 
home  or  fupport  r" 

"  Had  I  a  home  I  could  call  my  own,"  faid  JefTr 
Oliver,  "  you  mould  not  have  occafion  to  repeat  the 
quellion." 

"  And  poor  aunt  Rachel  too,  what  will  become  of 
her:"  laid  Rachel,  tenderly  taking  her  hand,  which 
hung  padlvcly  over  the  arm  of  her  chair,  as  loft  in 
painful  thought  fhe  leaned  her  head  againTt  the  fide 
of  it. 

"What  will  become  of  her?"  faid  Reuben  with 
energy,  "  why  I  will  labour  to  fupport  you  both. 
Yes,"  continued  he,  fervently  clafping  his  hands,  and 
dropping  on  his  knees  befove  them  ;  "  yes,  here  in  the 
fight  of  Heaven,  I  vow  to  dedicate  my  life  to  her  and 
you.  I  will  cheerfully  work  to  procure  you  fuftenance. 
Induftry  fhall  fupply  our  wants,  innocence  and  con- 
tent make  our  dwelling,  however  humble,  the  abode 
of  pleafure  ;  and  I  will  protect  you  from  the  fcorn  and 
infults  of  the  world  at  the  hazard  of  my  life." 

As  Reuben  arofe  and  folded  his  filler  in  his  arms, 
Hczekiah  Penn  entered  the  room.  He  was  foon  in- 
formed of  their  difagreeable  fituation.  But  Hezekiah 
knew  fo  very  little  of  the  world  and  its  concerns,  that 

he 


208         REUEEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

he  could  r.ot  ofTer  advice  ;  all  he  could  do  was  to  bid 
them  cheer  up,  and  hope  lor  better  times. 

"  In  truth,  my  dear  kinfman,  (aid  he,  ':  I  do  com- 
miferatc  your  fufferlngs  much  ;  but  1  knew  not  h<  w, 
young  as  you  art,  ;ui  can  extricate  yourfelves  from 
your  prefent  difficulty.  Come,  then,  home  to  my 
houfe  :  abide  there  till  we  can  fix  on  feme  feafible 
plan  I  :  wcll-cjoing.     .1  am  not  overcharg- 

ed with  the  good  things  of  this  world  ;  but  con:e  and 
partake  of  fuch  as  I  have,  and  lake  with  t  a 
hearty  welcome.  I  pray  thee,  Rachel  Dudley,  fee  net 
hearted,  but  come  to  my  maniion  ;  bring  thefe 
children  with  thee,  and  He  who  feedeth  the  young  ra- 
vens will  provide  the  means  of  fubuflcncc." 

trt  of  Hezekiah  overflowed  with  the  "milk 
of  human  kindnefi ;"  he  meant  all  he  faid,  and  felt 
more,  much  more,  than  he  could  find  words  to  cx- 
prefs.  Kis  friendly  offers,  and  the  endearing  kind- 
iver,  healed  the  bleeding  hearts  of  Reu- 
ben and  Rachel,  and  even  aunt  Rachel  was  revived  by 
iheir  influence.  That  very  night  they  removed  from 
own  habitation  to  that  ci'  the  benevolent  Re/.e- 
Hah,  and  left  the  loquacious  Mr.  Allibi  in  full  pofl'ef- ■ 
fion  of  the  premifes,  in  behalf  of  his  client  Mr.  An-. 
-;.    .   A  tltins. 


C  H  A  P.     VI. 


Death  of  en  eld  Friend — Acqtufition  cf  a  Loicr — For- 
mality perfvniftt  J. 

QOON  after  this  arrangement  took  place,  Mift 
k3  Oliver  was  recalled  home.  With  many  tears  fLe 
took  leave  of  our  heroine,  told  her,  if  ever  fortune 
fhould  put  it  in  her  power  to  offer  her  an  afylum,  fhe 
might  freely  command  her  purfe,  her  houfe,  her  un- 
bounded friendihip  in  every  particular.  When  fhe 
had  again  embraced  Rachel,  fhe  turned  towards  Reu- 
ben. 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.  *ogr 

"  Mr.  Dudley,"  faid  (lie,  "  the  friendfhip  of  a  girl 
l;!vC  me  is  an  offering  of  fo  trifling  a  nature,  I  hardly 
know  whether  you  will  think  it  worth  accepting.  You 
are  adviied  by  your  friends  to  vifit  America,  to  look 
after  and  fecure  the  property  your  father  polfeffed 
there.  It  will  probably  be  many  years  before  we  meet 
again  ;  and  what  changes  may  take  place  during  this 
feparalion,  it  is  impotfible  now  to  determine.  Accept 
my  moll  ardent  wilhes  for  your  proiperity.  I  know 
you  will  often  write  to  my  brother  ;  in  thofe  letters 
perhaps  you  will  fometimes  remember  me." 

"  Oh  !  doubt  it  not,  charming  Mils  Oliver,"  faid 
he,  prcflinp-  her  hand  to  his  lips  ;  while  lhe,  fearful 
that  lhe  had  faid  more  than  the  exact  line  of  propri- 
ety flie  had  prefcribed  to  herfelf  rendered  allowable, 
hurried  to  her  carriage,  to  hide  emotions  lhe  found 
it  impolhble  to  ftifle. 

Atkins  having  new  t;Jcen  the  manacement  of  the 
eftate  eutirely  into  his  own  hands,  pretended  to  ad- 
vance money  himfelf  for  the  liquidation  of  Mr.  Dud- 
ley's debts,  and  at  the  end  of  three  months  laid  before 
Hezekiah  Penn,  Reuben  and  aunt  Rachel,  a  llatement 
of  accounts,  which,  to  the  minds  of  thefe, three  inexpe- 
rienced, honcil  children  of  Simplicity,  made  it  appear 
as  fo  involved,  that  it  would  be  a  long  term  of  years 
before  it  could  even  clear  itfelf.  In  the  mean  time, 
how  were  the  orphans  and  their  venerable  relation  to 
be  fup.ported  ? 

Letters  were  written  to  Jacob   Holmes,   a  proper 
time  alloweJ,  and  no   anfwer  being  returned,  Hezeki- 
ah perfuaded    R.euben,  who  was  now  nearly  eighteen, 
to  vilit  that  continent  and  make   inquiry  himfelf  con-  • 
coming  his  father's  effei    . 

"  Your  fifter,"  faid  Hezekiah,  "  (hall  ftay  with  me 
till  you  return.  t:he  (hall  not  want  a  home  nor  a  fa- 
ther whilll  I  live." 

A  voyage  to  the  weftern  continent  had  ever  been 
the  primary  wiih  of  Reuben's  heart ;  he  hoped  he 
knew  net  v. hit,  but  that  hope  led  him  on;  and  even. 
to  part  with  Ins  filler  was  thought  of  with  more  com- 
poiurc,  fince,  if  ho  amended  his  own  fortune,  (he  was 

T2  10, 


2io        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

to  be  the  partaker  of  it.  Jefly  Oliver  too  wasforemoft 
in  the  happy  group  his  fanguine  imagination  portray- 
ed as  eagerly  flying  to  welcome  his  return  to  England. 
Nay,  fancy  would  lb  powerfully  take  pofletTion  of  his 
mind,  that  lhe  would  femctimes  carry  him  a  f:cor.d 
time  acrofs  the  Atlantic  ocean,  and  place  him  tran- 
quilly in  the  habitation  his  father  had  defcribec',  fur- 
round  him  with  a  blooming  offspring,  and  give  them 
Jefly  Oliver  for  a  mother,  his  lifter  too  heightening 
by  partaking  their  felicity  ;  and  even  provide  a  mug 
corner  and  eafy  chair  for  aunt  Rachel. 

"  Uncle  Hezekiah,"  he  would  fay,  "  will  not  be  per- 
fuaded  to  quit  Old  England,  or  elfe  what  a  charming 
family  party  we  mould  make." 

Oh  !  how  delightful  are  thofe  day-dreams  of  youth  ; 
like  the  fhadows  of  a  magic  lantern,  that  pafs  before 
the  admiring  "eye  in  quick  fucceffion,  each  one  as  it 
comes  forward  more  plcafing  than  the  laft.  Rut  for- 
row,  disappointment,  poverty,  throw  a  damp  upon  the 
fire  of  youth,  which  had  given  brightnefs  to  the  pic- 
ture ;  the  brilliant  tints  grow  pale  ;  the  figures  are 
fcarcely  perceptible  ;  they  pafs  before  us  almoft  un- 
noticed ;  when  age  entirely  extinguifhes  the  flame, 
and  all  is  davknefs,  undiilinguifliable  chaos. 

Spurred  en  by  the  native  impulfe  cf  his  mind,  which 
'incited  him  to  activity,  and  infpired  him  with  the  moft 
fanguine  prefentiments  of  future  profperity,  Reuben 
look  leave  of  his  friends  in  Lancafliire,  and  embarked 
for  Philadelphia. 

Previous  to  his  departure,  he  had  thrown  off  both  the 
habit  and  manners  of  a  Quaker.  Hezekiah  remon- 
ftrated,  but  Reuben  would  reply,  "Nay,  uncle,  can 
you  believe  it  is  of  any  confequencc  to  our  eternal 
welfare,  whether  we  wear  a  plain  drab  coat  or  a  fear- 
let  one  ?  or  do  you  not  think  I  fliould  commit  more 
fin  in  continuing  the  habit,  when  I  cannot  fubmit  to 
the  tenets  of  the  Friendly  fyftem  ?  I  admire  their 
primitive  manners,  and  the  fimplicity  of  their  lan- 
guage ;  but  I  am  a  young  man,  uncle,  and  have  to 
make  my  way  through  the  world.  Befides,  I  feel  that 
within  me  that  tells  me,  fliould  my  king  cr  country  re- 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  211 

quire  my  affiftaflce,  I  fhould  readily  draw  a  fword  in 
their  defence.  What,  my  dear  uncle,  if  we  were  all 
men  of  peace,  who  would  protect  us  from  the  en- 
croachments of  our  enemies  ?  No  ;  you  fhall  pray  icr 
peace,  and  if  the  haughty  foe  is  not  inclined  to  grant 
it,  I  will  affift.  my  brave  countrymen  to  force  them 
to  it." 

Perhaps  Hezekiah  did  not  fay  Co  much  as  he  might 
have  done,  had  he  not  recollected  that  Re\iben*s  father 
had  only  become  one  of  the  fed  in  compliance  with 
the  wffh  of  his  wife  ;  and  Hezekiah  had  charity  en 
to  think  that  a  man  might  be  a  very  good  Chriftian, 
though  he  wore  a  button  to  his  hat,  and  ruffles  to  his 
ftiirt. 

From  the  time  of  Mr.  Dudley's  unfortunate  death, 
aunt  RachePs.fpirits  flagged.  She  was  no  longer  the  liit 
of  every  fociety  in  which  fhe  mixed.  The  lofs  of  her 
little  independence,  the  being  obliged  to  the  hand  of 
charity  for  her  daily  bread,  dcprel'ed  her  generous 
mind.  The  deftitute  htuation  too  of  her  darlings, 
Reuben  and  Rachel,  was  a  heavy  affliction.  Reft  and 
appetite  forfook  her.  Reuben's  departure  for  Amer- 
ica was  the  rimming  blow.  The  anxiety  ihe  fuffered 
for  his  fafety  brought  on  a  flow  nervous  fever,  and 
gradually  undermined  her  conftitution.  Rachel  watch- 
ed over  her  with  unremitting  tendernefs  and  atten- 
tion ;  adminillcrcd  every  medicine  ;  read  to  he", pray- 
ed by  her  ;  endeavoured  to  cheer  her  by  affcc~ted  fe- 
renity  when  fhe  was  awake,  and  wept  over  her  with 
agony  when  (he  flept. 

But  care,  affection,  prayers  and  tears  were  alike  in- 
effectual. Aunt  Rachel  departed  this  life,  and  our 
heroine  felt,  as  the  laft  breath  lingered  on  the  lips  cf 
her  maternal  friend,  that  in  lofing  her  fhe  fhould  be- 
come foflorn,  unconnected,  and  be  left  to  ftruggle 
through  a  world  with  which  fhe  was  totally  unac- 
quainted) without  a  comforter,  advifcr,  or  protector. 
Reuben  ftill  lived,  to  be  fure,  but  Reuben  was  far, 
very  far  from  her ;  and  fhould  fhe  ftand  in  need  of 
advice  or  protection,  lhe  might  be  loft,  and   Reuben 

not 


t\i         RLTJB~>T   and    RACHEL;  or,. 

not  even  hearbf  her  diflrefs  till  ilie  was  pad  the  reach 
of  relict'  or  affiftan 

Occupied  by  reflections  fuch  a:,  thefc,  Rachel  would 
cf:cn  flxay  into  the  rural  church-yard,  where,  reding 
on  the  "lap  of  earth,"  lay  the  rem. -.ins  of  her  mother 
and  her  lamented  atirit. 

It  was  mklfummer.  The  days  were  extremely 
long,  aud  at  half-pall  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  juil 
enough? of  the  twilight  remained,  as  threw  over  the 
face  o£ nature  that  mode!',  dufky  veil,  io  congenial 
to  the  contemplative  mind.  Rachel  feated  herfelf  on 
the  fragment  of  a  broken  tomb-Hone,  and  calling  hei 
eyes  upon  a'  new-made  grave,  where  that  very  after- 
noon a  youth  had  been  interred,  the  only  /'on  of  a. 
farmer  in  the  neighbourhood,  ihe,  almod  unknown  to 
herfelf,  audibly  repeated  the  following  Manias. . 

Reft,  gentle  youth,  here  reft  in  peace, 

Secure  from  vanity  and  troife; 
For  here  thy  earthly- ibrfows  ceafe, 

From  hence  commence  thy  heavenly  joys- 
Short  was  thy  fpan  ;  'tis  paft  !  'tis  gone  ! 

Early  thou'ft  rcach'd  the  appointed  goal  ;  • 
Freed  from  its  clog,  and  upwards  flown, 

Angels  receiv'd  thy  fpotlefs  foul. 

TLrc  in  thy  quiet  manfion  reft, 

Safe  frr>m  all  anguifli,  pain  or  care  ; 
Light  fit  the  turf  upon  thy  breaft, 

Nor  weed  nor  briar  hVarifii  there. 

And  when  the  chilling  arms  of  death 

Shall  fold  thii  fragile  frame  of  mine, 
May  my  luft  Cgh  of  parting  breath 

Pafs  tranquil  and  rtfign'd  as  thine. 

"  My  lovely  moralift,"  faid  a   voice,   as  Rachel 
ilhed  the  laft  fentence,  "  if  you  fit  here  much  longer, 
you  will  ftand  a   chance  of  foon  being  as   tranquil  as 
that  poor  youth.     His  difordcr  was   a  cold,  and  ycu 
are  taking  the  right  method  to  catch  one." 

Rachel  role,  turned  her  head,  and  beheld  the  apoth- 
ecary of  the  village.     Dr.  Lenient  was  a  man  nearly 

fifty 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.  213 

fifty  years  old,  very  humane,  very  learned,  very  fkil- 
ful  in  his  profeflion  ;  but  with  regret  it  mult  be  added, 
not  very  rich.  For  if  he  attended  a  family  whow 
wants  were  great  and  means  fmall,  when  the  journey- 
man inquired  if  he  lhould  make  out  the  bill,  as  was 
cuftomary,  at  Chriftmas,  he  would  fay,  Pho,  pho,  tear 
out  the  account  and  burn  it :  if  I  fend  it  in,  they  can't 
pay  it.  Jt  is  only  ray  own  time  loft;  and  the  lew 
drugs — what  did  they  coft  me  ?     :  talk- 

ing of.  Oh!  bum  it  !  burn  it !  If  the.  poor  man  has 
got  a  trifle  beforehand,  why  he  wants  it,  in  this  feafon 
of  hilarity,  to  provide  a  good  large  plumb-pudding 
for  his  little  ones." 

With  fentiments  fuefi  as  tlieie,  chough  the  Doctor's 
practice  daily  increafed,  yet  it  did  not  greatly  augment 
his  revenue.  However,  he  fuppoited  his  family  with 
comfort  and  fomething  mere  than  decency. 

Our  heroine  was  a  great  favourite  with  the  good 
man.  Studious  from  her  infancy,  cf  an  inquiring.; 
genius,  eager  ia  the  purfuit  of  knowledge,  and  atten- 
tive to  the  convcifation  of  thofe  who  had  the  power 
to  impart  it,  Rachel  at  the  age  of  twelve  had  prcfer- 
ed  a  cenverfation  with  th<  to  a  ride  era  ramble 

with  her  j  irraed.by  her  ardent 

thirft  for  inflruclicn,  the  old  gentleman  would  anfwer 
her  queftions,  corredl  her  errors,  direct  her  lludics, 
and  labour  to  give  her  an  unaffected  turn  for  litera- 
ture an  lite  arts. 

When  Rachel  painted  or  worked  flowerr,  the  Doctor 
would  aflift  her  in  arranging  her  fhades  with  proprie- 
lefcribing,  as  he  fat  beiidc  her  while  (he  worked,. 
the  natures,  properties  and  ufe.of  every  plant,   fhrirb 
or  flower..    If. (he  read,  he  con  pronuncial 

and  taught  her  how  to  convey  the    fall  fenfe   of  ' 
ihe  read  to  her  auditors,  by   a  pleafing  modulati 
voice.     If  ihe  wrote,  he  would  point  l>ut  the  errors  in 
her  ftylej  and   often   has  been  h'cai  ( 
great  pity  ilie  could  not  fpeafc  and  read  Latin. 

'*  Come,  my  good  girl,"  faid  he,  "  you  (hall  [ro  heme 
with  inc.     You   are   too  melancholy    fi  late,   and  in- 
dulge too  much  in  folitary  walks  and  gloomy  contem- 
plations. 


*t4         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 


plations.      And  let  me  tell  you,  my  young  friend,  yon 
are  mfenfibly  falling  into  an  error,  which,  if  indulged, 
increafe   and    grow   upon  you,   till,  it   becomes 
guilt." 

Rachel  Parted.      "What  mean  you,  Sir?"  faid  Hie. 

"  I  mean/'  replied  the  Doctor,    "  that  you  are  fink- 
ing   into  torix ■:•  and  inactivity  :   yc-u    are   fuftering  the 
of   your   foul   to    be   entirely  locked   up    by 
grief,  and  you   arc  tEftrufting  the  power   of  a    Divine. 
Providence,  i:i  giving  way  tn  immoderate  affliction.*' 

"Alas!  my ; dear  Sir,"  faid  Rachel,  "have  I  not 
Caufe  to  be  afflicted:"  am  I  not  a  mdft  unhappy  crea- 
ture ?  My  parents  dead,  my  brother  at  an  immenfc 
diliance  from  me,  my  good  uncle  Hezekifth  in  a  verv 
inarm  ftate,  and  the  only  foufce  from  whence  I  could 
look  for  fupport  entangled  in  the.  law  !" 

"  All  this  is  true,  I  muft  allow,"  faid  the  Doctor 
gravely,  "but  yet,  Mils  Dudley,  you  have  a  firm,  un- 
alterable friend,  who  has  faid,  (ami  his  word  is  truth 
itfelf)  "  Though  thy  father  and  thy  mother  forfakc 
thee,  yet  Avill  not  I  forfake  thee."  And  this  friend, 
my  dear,  has  endowed  you  with  wonderful  qualifica- 
tions of  both  mind  and  perfen  ;  he  has  given  you 
good  fenfe,  genius,  and  the  benefit  of  improving  thofe 
qualities  by  education  ;  and  all  he  requires  of  you  is, 
not  ungratefully  to  bury  the  talent  entrufted  to  your 
keeping,  but  exert  yourfelf  to  improve  it  to  the  ut- 
raoft,  depending  on  him  to  fecond  your  endeavours, 
and  he  will  amply  reward  your  faith,  patience  and 
induftxy." 

Cheered  and  comforted  by  eonverfatvon  fuch  as  this, 
the  melancholy  cloud  began  to  difperfe  from  the  brow 
of  Rachel.  Her  features  afFumed  a  fweet,  an  intereft- 
,jng  compofure  ;  and,  arrived  at  the  dwelling  of  the 
good  Doctor,  flie  contented  to  go  in  and  partake  of  his 
fopper.  For  the  houfe  of  Hc/.ekiah  Penn  was  within 
five  minute's  walk  of  the  Doctor's,  and  a  lad  was  dif- 
patched  to  inform  him  that  Rachel  was  fafe,  but  would" 
flip  out. 

This  little  neccfTary  bufinefs  was  fettled  in  the  gar- 
den that  fronted  the  houfe,   where  the  lad  was  bulled 


TALES    of    OLD    T  I  M.E  S.  215. 

in  watering  fome  pots  of  curious  flowers  ;  and  the 
Doctor  then  led  his  fair  companion  through  the  fiiop 
into  <i  back  parlour,  where  they  ufually  fat. 

"  I  have  brought  you  a  welcome  vifitor,  After," 
laid  he,  as  he  opened  the  door-  Mrs.  Auberry  role 
from  her  feat,  and  taking  the  hand  of  Rachel,  cried, 
**  Welcome  indeed."  Xhen  turning  to  an  elegant 
]  oung  man  in  military  uniform,  fhc  continued,  "  My 
dear  Hamden,  give  mc  leave  to  p  relent  you  to  Mil's 
Dudley.  This,  Mil's  Dudley,  is  m\  fon  Hamden  Au- 
berry, of  whom  you  have  often  heard  me  fpeak." 
The  majeclk  figure,  the  lift,  melancholy  counts* 
of  Rachel,  rendered  more  (hiking  by  her  deep 
mourning  habit,  (for  Rachel  was  not  ()uakcr  enough 
to  neglect  that  outward  token  of  refpeel  to  the  memory 
of  departed  iriends)  made  her  appear  in  the  eyes  of 
the  young  foldier  almoft  divine.  .She  bowed  her  head, 
;ind  presented  her  hand  with  a  grace  peculiar  to  her- 
j'elf.  There  was  fomething  in  the  action  t/ouvefft,  and 
irrefiftibly  charming  in  the  eyes  of  Hamden.  He  took 
die  fnowy  pledge  of  ar.iii;  ,  and  bowed  low  upon  it ; 
and  if  his  lingers  did  coni  racl  clofer  than  the  frigid 
rules  of  politenels  render  aunMiT.hle,  furprife  and  ;id- 
miration  mult  plead  his  excule.  R  u  heJ  Was  fc;,iiblc 
of  the  preifure,  and  life's  warm  flui<  rufliing  irnpctu- 
oidly  to  her  heart,  from  thence  {prang  to  her  checks, 
and  gave  uncommon  animation  to  her  expreflhte  coun- 
tenance. 

Dr.  Lenient  was  an  old  bachelor.  Himfelf  and 
fifter  were  nearly  of  an  age.  cihe  had,'  in  her 
youth,  united  hcrfclf  to  a  young  man,  who,  being  a 
younger  fon  though  of  the  united  families  of  Hamden 
and  Auberry,  had  nothing  but   a  commiflion  and  the 

-ll  qf  his  father  to  depend  on.  Joanna  Lenient 
was  poor  in  every  thine.-,  lave  perfona]  beauty  and  a 
.good  heart.     Young  Auberry  faw  her,  loved  her,  and 

ing  defiance  to   ever)    fuggeftion   of  prudence,  in 

'  oppofition  to  the  will  of  his  father*,  married  her. 
His  lather  renounced  him,  and  h>  never  role  above  the 

of  captain.     He  fought  preferment  in  the  field  of 
y  under  the  gallant  Marlborough, 

and 


ftiti         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

and  fell  in  the  memorable  battle  on  the  plains  of  Blcin- 
hem. 

His  wife  had  never  been  acknowledged  by  his  fami- 
ly, rind  after  his  death  fie  retired,  "with  her  infant  fon, 
then  only  fifteen  months  eld,  to  the  village  where  her 
brother  reftded.  He  had  jmt-  entered  upon  the  bufy 
fjenes  of  life,  had  a  plcafant  houfe,  a  confiderablc  de- 
gree of  employment ;  but  no  focial  companion  to  ren- 
der the  fireiide  cheerful,  or  prefide  at  the  temperate 
meal.  He  invited  his  filter  to  come  and  increase  his 
comforts  by  fharing  them.  She  complied,  and  his 
home  from  that  hoar  became  her's.  Her  pcnlion  war. 
devoted  to  the  education  of  young  Kamden,  and  the 
fupply  of  her  own  pocket  expenfes ;  and  The  Doctor 
found  himfelf  fo  happy  in  her  fifterly  affection,  her 
economy  in  managing  his  family,  her  good  humour, 
fincerity,  and  ftudy  to  pleafe,  that  every  other  woman 
of  his  acquaintance  loft  fomething  in  his  opinion,  when 
compared  with  his  filer  Aubcrry. 

It  happened  that  when  Hamden  was  about  feven 
years  old,  the  maid-fervant  of  Dr.  Lenient  re'juefted 
leave  to  go  to  a  neighbouring  fair,  and  take  little  maf- 
ter  with  her.  Hamden  joined  his  felicitations  with 
Sufan's,  and  was  permitted  to  go.  The  brother  of 
Sudan  was  the  head-waiter  of  an  inn,  in  the  town  to 
which  they  went,  and  thither  the  girl  (after  having 
paraded  through  the  fair  with  fome  of  her  companions, 
and  purchaled  for  Matter  Auberry  a  gun  and  a  drum) 
repaired,  in  order  to  procure  fome  retrefhment.  Ham- 
den, filiated  with  cakes,  fruit  and  fugar-plumbs,  left 
her  to  take  her  re  pa  ft  in  quiet,  whilft,  taking  Ins  little 
mu/ket  on  his  fhouldcr,  and  flinging  his  drum  before 
him,  he  paraded  in  the  court  before  the  front  of  the 
houfe,  fupporting  his  gun  with  his  left  ham',  and  bait- 
ing the  drum  with  his  right. 

Hamden  was  a  remarkably  handlome  boy  ;  h's 
complexion  at  once  fair  and  florid,  his  eyes  large  and 
expreffive,  of  the  fincft  fapphire  hue,  and  his  forehead 
iliadcd  by  innumerable  ringlets  of  beautiful  il.ixcn 
hair  ;  tail  of  his  age,  and  fumcicntly  robult'to  prevent 
an  appearance  of  effeminacy*  Such  a  boy  fo  employ- 
ed, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  217 

*d,  could  not  fail  to  attract  notice.  A  lad",  who  in 
.pafling  to  her  country-feat  had  flopped  to  take  dinner 
in  this  place,  had  obferved  his  martial  air  and  ftep,  as 
he  marched  before  the  windows,  and  throwing  up  the 
ialh,  called  him  to  her. 

"  So  you  have  been  to  the  fair,  I  fee,  my  pretty 
■boy,"  faid  fhc. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  and  Sufan  gave  me  this  gun  ;  a'ftt  it 
a  pretty  one  ?  and  the  drum  too  ;  only  hear  how  loud 
I  can  beat  it-  She  wanted  to  give  me  a  fiddle  and  a 
coach,  but  I  choie  the  gun,  and  next  fair  I  will  have 
a  fword." 

"  You  (hall  have  a  fword  now,  my  fwcet  boy  ;  here 
is  a  fhilling  to  buy  one." 

"  No,  thank  you,  ma'am,"  faid  Hamdcn  ;  "  mamma 
gave  me  money  enough,  and  ihe  would  be  angry  if  I 
took  any  from  (hangers." 

"  You  are  a  charming  fellow  ;  will  you  go  with 
me  I** 

"  If  mamma  pleafcs,  and  you  will  promife  to  make 
me  a  foldier." 

"  Why  do  you  wifh  to  be  a  foldier  V* 
**  Becaufe  -papa  was  a  foldier.     He  was  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Bleinhem,  and   I  (hould  like  to  know  how  to 
fight,  that  I  might  kill  the  man  that  killed  my  father." 
The  lady  felt  her  eyes  fill  with  Hears  ;  the  undaunt- 
ed fpirit  of  the  boy  delighted  her. 

"  What  is  your  name,  my  love  r"  faid  fhc. 
"  Hamdcn    Auberry,"   he   replied  ;   "  'tis   a    great 
name,  my  mamma  fays,  and  for  the  fake  of  my  father's 
relations  I  muft  be  careful  not  to  difgracc  it,   though 
they  never  owned  me,  nor  noticed  J$e." 

At  the  name  of  Auberry,  the  lady  had  funk  agi- 
tated on  the  window-feat.  "  Cdrae  into  the  room,  my 
dear,"  faid  flic.  Hamdcn  obeyed,  and  was  inftantl/ 
folded  in  her  arms,  while  her  teai-s  bedewed  his  face, 
as  (he  tenderly  fainted  him. 

It  was  lady  Anne  Auberry,  the  elded  filter  of  Ham- 
den's  fuher.      Struck    by   the    innocent   reproach   his 
natural  and  fpirited  replies  had  given,  not'  only  to  her- 
fclf,  but   all  the   family,   for  their  wilful  neglect  of  fo 
U  promifing 


=  iS         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  bit, 

promifmg  a  branch  of  it,  flic  made   inquiries  concern- 
ing the  fitnation  of  his  mpther,  ordered  her  carriage, 

took  the  cliild  home,  and  from  that  moment  adopted 
him  as  her  own  fon.  At  that  period  fhe  was  verging 
upon  forty,  was  (lill  unmarried,  and  remained  I 
tile  time  Hamden,  returned  from  a  tour  lie  had  been 
making  on  the  continent,  was  introduced  to  our  he- 
roine. 

Lady  Anne  had  (pared  no  coft  in  completing  his 
education.  She  never  forgot  the  promife  lac  had  in- 
nocently extorted  from  her  at  die  moment  flic  firifc 
converfed  with  him,  and  before  he  was  fix  teen  pur- 
chafed  for  him  an  enfigncy  in  a  regiment  upon  the 
home  eftabliiliment.  Lie  was  now  only  twenty-two, 
but  what  cannot  intereft  and  money  procure  :  Ham- 
den Auberry,  without  once  having  been  in  actual  fer- 
vice,  "Was  advanced  to  the  rank  of  Major. 

When  lady  Anne  thus  lavifhly  poured  upon  her 
nephew  every  advantage  which  wealth  could  bellow, 
fhe  in  her  mind  purpofed  making  him  her  heir  ;  in- 
deed,  fhe  looked  upon  him  as  the  heir  of  the  family. 
Her  eldeft  brother's  children  were  all  puny  beings, 
and  her  fecond  brother  had  never  married.  She 
therefore  looked  forward  with  the  hope  of  one  day 
feeing  Hamden  or^e  of  the  fir  ft  men  in  the  kingdom. 
One  of  the  preliminaries  Ihe  had  fettled  for  his  ad- 
vancement was  a  marriage  with  fome  woman  of  fplen- 
did  rank  and  fortune.  Perhaps  lady  Anne  was  not 
quite  fo  anxious  about  beauty,  grace,  good  fenfe,  and 
good  humour,  as  Hamden  himfclf  thought  was  abfo- 
lutely  neceffary  ;  for  fhe  had  pointed  out  three  feveral 
women  of  quality,  who,  fhe  allured  him,  would  be 
happy  to  receive  his  devoirs,  and  whofe  alliance  would 
do  him  infinite  honour.  But  unfortunately  one  was 
upwards  of  forty  years  old,  another  had  a  hump  on 
her  back,  coarfe,  unmeaning  features,  and  a  difpofi- 
tion  that  was  the  very  counterpart  of  her  form  ;  and 
the  third,  though  formed  by  the  tendereft  care  of 
young  love,  yet  fo  vacant,  fo  totally  devoid  of  men- 
,j!  endowments, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         219 

And  -when  the  beauteous  idiot  fpoke, 

Forth  from  her  coral  lips  fuch  nonfeufe  broke, 

That  Hamden,  though  an   enthufiaft   in  his  admira- 
'  tion   of  female  beauty,  could   fcarcely  command  pa- 
tience- iufficient  to  linen  with  an  appearance  of  com- 
mon civility. 

His  heart  had  remained  untouched,  and  it  wai 
Our  heroine  alone  to  call  its  tender  icntimcnts  into  ac- 
tion. The  artlels,  unaffected  manner  of  Rachel,  al- 
forded  him  the  moft  delicate  pleafufe,  whilft  bdu'U- 
ing  and  convening  with  her  ;  fbi  it  was  fo  apparent 
in  every  word,  look,  fnriile  of  hers,  that  fhe  Was  un- 
confeious  of  her  own  charms,  that  thole  charms  be- 
came the  more  (hiking,  the  more  fafcinating.  About 
half  pad  ten,  he  Waited  on  Rachel  to  the  door  of  her 
uncle's  manfion,  and  then  returned  to  tell  his  mother 
fhe  was  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  feen,  who  in  the 
lead  appeared  to  him  in  every  particular  what  a  wom- 
an ought  to  be. 

Hezekiah  had  been  married  very  early  in  life,  but 
his  wife  lived  only  a  few  years  ;  and  from  the  time 
of  her  deceafe,  his  houfehold  concerns  had  been  fuper- 
intended  by  a  diltant  relation  of  his  mother's,  whole- 
tall,  thin  figure,  and  aullere  vifage,  attired  in  the  clofe 
mob  black  hood,  and  other  plain  habiliments  ufualiy 
worn  by  the  i'e&,  looked,  as  much  as  it  is  poihble  to 
conceive  any  thing  to  look,  like  formality  perfonificcl. 
Nor  was  her  drefs  and  perfon  more  ItifF  and  forbid 
ding  than  was  her  manners.  Ignorant  in  the  highci); 
degree,  fhe  valued  herfelf  on  that  ignorance  ;  fhc  un- 
deritood  nothing  of  polite  literature  ;  and  whenever 
me  faw  our  heroine  engaged  in  any  book,  whether  of 
inftruclion  or  amufement  it  mattered  not,  by  her  they 
were  all  termed  vanity  and  vexation  of  fpirit.  The 
product-ions  of  the  here  poets  were  called  blafphemy. 
Hiftory  was  of  no  ufe  ;  for  of  what  confequence  was 
it  to  her  what  was  done  in  the  world  before  fhe  was 
born  ?  And  works  of  fancy,  however  excellent  in 
their  kinj,  were  all  a  pack  of  nonfenfe,  and  ferved  on- 
ly to  fill  young  people's  heads  with  proclamations. 

To 


220         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

To  be  feen  with  a  book  on  any  day  except  Sunday, 
was  highly  againfl  her  creed.  For  in  her  opinion 
needle-woik,  l'pinning,  and  attending  to  the  culinary 
concerns  of  the  family,  were  fuffieient  to  occupy  every 
hour  of  the  day.  Her  pickles  and  preferVes  were  ex- 
cellent in  their  kind,  and  for  good  fubltautial  ruaft 
and  boiled  diihes,  with  (olid  plumb-puddings,  and  lari^e 
family  mince-pics,  Tabitha  would  not  give  place  to 
any  woman  in  England.  Hezekiah  thought,  with  all 
her  oddities,  fhe  had  his  intcrefl  fmcercly  at  heart,  and 
therefore  continued  paflive,  and  fuffered  Tabilha  to 
rale  the  family  as  lhe  pleafed.  But  the  maidens  of 
the  household  unanimoufly  declared,  that  fhe  ruled 
wkh  a  rod  of  iron. 

■•<■<■<  -<-<^.-}-^»-  >■>>•>- 

CHAP.      VII. 

Journey  to  London, 

HEN    Hamden  Auberry  had  feen  Rachel  t 
her   uncle's  door  and  rapped  at  it,  politenei 
obliged  him  to   wait  till  it   was  opened,  which  it  wa 
by  Tabitha  herfelf.     She   glanced  her  eye  at  the  fear- 
let  coat  and  the  lace   which  decorated   it,  nor  did  fiie 
entirely  overlook  the  handibme  form  and  face  of  him 
who  wore  it.     But  when,  without  noticing  Tabitha, 
Hamden  bowed  to  our  heroine,  and  kiffing  her  hai.d 
with  an  air  of  gallantry,  wifhed  her  a  good  night,  fh 
became  troubled  in  fpirit  that  Rachel  Ihould  have  fub- 
mitted  to  fuch  an  abomination  quietly. 

With  upright  head,  her  long,  fcraggy  neck  ftretch 
ing  to  its  utmoft  extent,  from  a  conicioufnefs  of  he 
own  purity,  in  lilcnt  folemnity  Tabitha  flalked  into  the 
parlour,  where  fat  Hezekiah  almoft  dozing  in  his  eaiy 
chair.  She  depofited  the  candle  on  the  table,  and 
feated  herfelf  on  his  right  hand.  Rachel  fat  s  down  on 
the  other  fide,  and  affectionately  bending  over  the 
chair,  afked  her  uncle  how  he  was. 

"Why 


1 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         nx 

"  Why  tired  almoft  to  death,  thou  mayeft  be  fare," 
&id  Tabitha,  not  giving  Hc/.ekiah  time  to  reply. 

"  Then  it  was  a  pjty  my  uncle  did  not  go  to  bed," 
(aid  Rachel  innocently. 

"  Thou  art  both  an  unthinking  and  an  unfeeling 
girl,  Rachel  Dudley,  el&  wouldeft  thou  know  that 
anxiety  for.  thy  fafety  kept  him  up.  But  he  has  had 
fo  many  of  thofe  uneafy  hours  fince  thou  haft  been  in 
his  dwelling,  that  I  can  forefee  ic  will  hurry  him  to 
his  grave.  Oh  !  Rachel  !  Rachel  !  thou  art  turned 
to  vanity,  to  folly,  to  abomination.  Thou  art  wilful- 
ly running  into  the  fnares  of  the  wicked  one.  Thou 
doft  love  to  confort  with  the  children  of  di '/obedience  ; 
thou  delighted:  to  behold  their  veftments,  fhining  with 
gold,  and  red  in  the  blood  of  Jezebel." 

11  l'dcfs  me,"  faid  Rachel,  "  what  can  you  mean  ? 
Uncle,  pray  (peak  to  me.  1  hope  1  have  not  given 
you  any  caufe  for  uneafinds.  I  font  word  that  1  lliouht 
fup  at  Dr.  Lenicnt's  ;  had  you  fent  by  the  boy  for  OK 
to  come  home,  1  fliould  have  returned  inftantly." 

Hezekiah  had  taken  her  ham!,  which  in  her  e'atf- 
neftnefs  Jhe  had  laid  en  his  knee,  give  it  a  gentle 
prefuire,  and  was  beginning  to  /peak  ;  but  Tabitha  in- 
terrupted him,  and  he  knew  it  wouLJ  be  in  vain  to  at- 
tempt being  heard,  when  (lie  was  inclined  to  talk. 
So.  he  rclin.-iuilhed  his  intention,  leaned  back  in  his 
chair,  ihut  his  eyes,  and  inwardly  willicd  lie  could 
lhut  his  cars  alio. 

"  Thou  didft  fend  word,  it  is  true,"  faid  the  perfe- 
cuting  Tabitha,  "  but  thou  didft  not  fend  word  that  a 
ftranger  would  walk  with  thee  ;  that  thou  wouldeft 
lean  on  his  arm,  and  fuller  him  to  kifs  thy  hand,  in'  a 
manner  net  becoming  a  maiden  who  wiiheth  to  pre- 
ferre  her  reputation.  And  this  ftranger  was  clothed 
in  fcarlet  and  gold,  and  eats  the  bread  that  is  pur- 
chafed  by  murdering  his  fellow-creatnres.  Verily,  I 
fay,  my .fp'uit  wa-xeth  wroth  when  I  think  the  daugh- 
ter of  Cafliah  Penri  turneth  from  the  worfhip  of  her 
father's  houft,  and  runneth  after  ftfangc  gods,  and 
delighteth  to  dwell  in  the  tents  of  idolaters." 

U  2  "I  beg 


222        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;   or, 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  fai  d  Rachel  tartly  ;  "  rhf 
father  defpifed  both  formality  and  hypocrily." 

°  Oh  thou  offspring  of  a  generation  of  vipers,"  cried 
Tabitha,  "  doft  thou  call  our  pure  and  undehled  faith 
hypoenfy  ?" 

"  No  !  Heaven  forbid  I  fliould,"  replied  our  hero- 
ine mildly  ;  "  it  la  only  the  uncharitable  and  infen- 
fate  wretch,  who,  having  neither  heart  to  conceive*. 
nor  understanding  to  enjoy,,  the  innocent  pleafures 
with  which  a  bountiful  Creator  has  enriched  the  world, 
proudly  arrogate  to  themfelves  the  right  to  judge 
and  contemn  their  fellow-creatures  ;  and  furely  it  is 
the  height  of  hypocrify  to  pretend  to  deferve  the  di- 
vine appellation  of  Chriftian,  and  yet  harbour  in  thcr 
bofom  envy,  hatred  and  malice." 

"  Rachel  .l  Rachel  !  child  of  folly,  daughter  of  dif- 
obedience,"  exclaimed  Tabitha  vociferoully,  her  mca>- 
gre  features  flaming  with  rage,  as  though  the  fire 
within  flione  through  her  fltinny  cheeks  and  hollow 
eyes  ;  "  child  of  darknefs,  hear  me ;  thou  art  going 
blindfold  into  the  pit ;  thou  art  walking  barefoot  ovei 
burning  ploughfhares  ;  but  the  foles  of  thy  feet,  like 
thine  eternal  foul,  is  callous  and  infenfible  to  the  dan- 
ger that  furrounds  thee.     Had  thy  mother  lived  unto 

this  day " 

"Oh!  would  to  Heaven  flie  had!"  v.;ied  Rachel*,, 
her  fpiiits  no  longer  able  to  fupport  her  againil  the 
abfurd  accufations  of  Tabitha.  "  Oh  that  flic  were 
alive  at  this  moment  ;  flie  would  not  fuffer  her  inno- 
cent child  to  be  thus  grofsly  infulted." 

Here  flie  gave  way  to  an  involuntary  gufh  of  tears 
but  fupprefling  them  as  quick  as  flie  could,   (he  kiffed 
her  uncle   with   affection,   "  Good-night !    God'  blefs 
you,  my   dear  Sir,"  laid  flie  ;  "  the  unhappy  Rachel 
v.  ill  not  long  be  a  trouble  to  you." 

"  God  blefs  you,  my  love,"  faid  Hezekiah,  "  am 
grant  us  both  patience  according  to  the  burthens  il 
may  pk-afe  him  to  lay  upon  us." 

«  Amen,"  laid  Rachel  fervently,  darting  an  indig- 
nant look  at  Tabitha  ;  then  riling  and  taking  the  ca 
die  from  the  table,  flic  went  towards  the  door ;  but 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES..         zz$ 

the  natural  philanthropy  of  her  mind  would  not  faffer 
her  to  part  in  enmity  with'  any  one..  She  turned  to- 
wards Tabitha,  "  Good-night,"  laid  fhc  in  a  foftened 
accent,  "and Heaven  forgive  us- both  as  we  forgive  each 
other."'  Tabitha  was  fuilenly  filent,  and  Rachel  retir- 
ed'to  her  ibhtary  apartment,  wept  a  few  moments,- 
knelt*  and  commended  herfelf  to  the  protection  o£ 
Heaven  ;.  was  compofed  and  comforted  by  the  auion, 
retired  to  bed>  and  funk  into  the  arms  of  repofe. 

Sweet,  heavenly  fweetr  are  the  ilumbcrs  of  die  in- 
nocent. Rachel's  heart  was  uncontaminated ;  envy, 
hatred,  jealoufy,  were  equal  ftrangers  to  it.  Her  flccp- 
was  undiftiubed  and  refreihing  ;  her  dreams  the  vis- 
itation of  miniftering  angels. 

When  Rachel  left  the  parlour,  Tabitha  began  fpeak- 
ing  to  Hczekiah,  but  he  arofe  from  his  feat.  **  My 
head  aches,"  faid  he,  "  I  can  fit  up  no  longer."  Then 
taking  his  own  candle,  which  Rood  ready  on  the  ta- 
ble, he  bade  Tabby  good-night  and.  retired  to  his 
apartment. 

"  I  will  alter  my  will  to-morrow,"  faid  Hezekiuh,. 
as  he  laid. his  head  on  the  pillow;  (for,  feme  years- 
previous  to  the  death  of  Mr.  Dudley,  this  will  had 
been  made  highly  in  Tabitha's  favour)  "I  will  alter 
my  will,"  faid  he,  "  it  will  not  be  right  to  leave  my 
fair  and  good  kinfwoman  Rachel,  dependent  on  a  per- 
fon  whole  undcrllanding  is  weak,  and  whofe  heart  is- 
contracled." 

In  the  morning  he  arofe  with  the  fame  determina- 
tion, and  difpatched  a  perfon  for  the  moft  eminent 
attorney  of  the  neighbouring  market  town.  He  walk- 
ed himfelf  to  Dr.  Lenient's,  wilhing  to  confult  with 
him,  and  to  have  him  a.  witnefs  to  his  new  will.  But 
unfortunately  the  attorney  was  gone  to  London  on 
prjrticular  bufmefs,  and  Dr.  Lenient  had  been  called  to 
Liverpool  to  vifit  a  patient,  who,  having  found  benefit 
from  his  prefcriptions  whilft  on  a  vifit  in  the  country, 
wilhed  to  have  thofe  prefcriptions  continued. 

At  dinner,  Hezekiah  ate  lefs  than  ufual,  complain- 
ed of  an  acute  pain  acrofs  his  temples,  and  a  coldnefs 
down  the  fpine  of  his  back. 

"Why 


t*4        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  of, 


"  Why  doft  tho-;  t  boiled  U 

faid  Tabiiha  j  "  the  fhrimp  fauce  is  good,  I  can  ali'urs 
tlico,  tor  I  made  it  myfelf." 

"•-I  have  flo  appetite  for  filh,"  he  replied,  pufking 
die  plate  gently  from  him. 

"  Let  me  change  your  plate,  dear  uncle,"  laid  -Ra- 
chel, removing  the  one  before  him  and  Jltting  one  in 
its  place  on  which  ihe  had  prcviouf.y  laid  the  wing  of 
a  ehicktn. 

Hezekiah  drew  the  plate  towards  him,  cut  a  mouth- 
ful and  railed  it  to  his  lips.  But  the  effort  was  vain.; 
hi~  countenance  changed  ;  he  funk  back.  It  was  a 
kind  of  paralytic  afl'eclion.  He  llruggled  to  ipeak, 
but-could  not  articulate.  By  the  order  of  Tahitha. 
he  was  put  into  a  warm  bed,  and  Dr.  Lenient  being 
j-uft  returned,  attended  on  the  fir  ft  fummons.  He  or- 
dered the  ui'ual  applications,  and  waited  to  o! 
their  effects.  All  the  night  he  continued  fpcechlcfs  ; 
but  towards  morning,  by  a  violent  exertion,  he  ipokc# 
lb  as  to  be  understood.  Defiring  to  be  railed  in  tin; 
bed,  he  in  faltering  accents  thus  began  : 

"  I  called  on  you,  my  good  friend,  this  morning,, 
to  afk  your  advice  and  opinion." 

"  I  wiih  I  had  been  at  home,"  faid  the  Doctor, 
"  we  might  perhaps  have  prevented  this  fevejc  attack." 

"That  is  not  my  meaning,"  faid  Hc/.ekiah.     "My 
■time  is  come,  and,   fkilfitl   as  you  are,  my  good  Dec- 
tor,   I  do  not  think  you  can  ward  off  the   llroke   of 
death." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  could,"  fad  the  Doctor  gravely. 

"  Tabiiha,"  faid  the  fick  man,  reaching  out  his  hand 
towards  her,  "  I  am  much  indebted  to  you  for  the  un- 
wearied attention  you  have  for  many  years  {hewn  me, 
and  the  care  you  have  taken  of  my  temporal  intereit. 
It  has  grieved  me  to  fee  ths  little  difleafions  -which 
have  of  late  taken  place  between  you  and  my  niece 
Rachel,  who,  though  younger,  livelier,  more  free  from 
prejudice  than  yourfelf,  is  nevefthelefs  one  of  th 
and  moll  unoffending  creatures  in  the  world.  Let 
rac  fee  you  friends,"  continued  he,  taking  Rachel's 
hand  and  joining  it  with  Tab'tha's. 

b  Rachel 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  225 

Rachel  could  not  fpcak,  Tabitha  would  not,  and 
Htzekiah  continued  : 

"  You  will  find  on  the  opening  of  my  will,  Dr. 
Lenient,  that  I  have  not  forgot  the  fcrvices  I  have  re- 
ceived from  my  ancient  kiniwoman  ;  but  I  am  forry — 
I  meant  to  alter — I  wilh  her  to  give — "  His  voice 
again  faultered — "to  give  her — "  faid  he  with  ex- 
treme difficulty. 

"  Fifty  or  ll:Uy  guineas,"  cried  Tabitha,  interrupt- 
ing him. 

"  No,"  exclaimed  the  dying  man  ;  then  ftruggling 
violently,  he  at  length  articulated,  **  Give-  her  half." 
They  were  his  but  words.  In  a  few  moments  he  funk 
again  into  uifenfibility,  and  before  evening  expired. 

Now  the  good-hearted  Doctor  fully  comprehended 
what  Kezckiah  meant  when  he  faid,  "  Give  her  half." 
But  Tabitha  wilfully  miiconllrued  the  expreilion  ;  and 
when  the  will  was  read,  which  gave  the  houfe,  land, 
cattle,  plate,  furniture,  Sec.  to  Tabitha  Holdfalt,  in 
confidcration  of  her  more  than  fifterly  kindnelV  Df« 
Lenient  intimating,  that  he  expected  fhe  would  make  a 
fair  and  equitable  diviilen  of  the  whole  with  Rachel,  in 
compliance  with  what  he  uuderitood  to  be  the  intention 
of  the  teftator  from  his  laft  words,  ihe  calmly  replied  ; 

44  Friend  Lenient,  I  am  not  accountable  for  what 
thou  mayeft  have  undcrilood.  1  am  certain  our  dear 
departed  brother  Hezekiah — "  And  here  the  hand- 
kerchief viiited  her  eyes  ;  but  it  returned 

Dry  as  the  chaff,,  which,  flitting  in  the  wind, 
Too  light  to  he  depreiVd  by  trifling  fhowcrs, 
Defie*  the  blaft,  and  flutteis  o'er  the  heath  ; 
Or,  like  tiie  downy  plumage  of  the  l\van, 
White  and  uufullied. 

'•  I  am  certain,"'  fhe  continued,  4'he  meant  not  the  par- 
ticipation thou  wouldeit  inllnuate  ;  for  when  (ever  ea- 
ger to  interpret  and  prevent  his  wiihes)  I  mentioned 
giving  her  fifty  or  fixty  guineas,  he  faid,  "  Give  her 
half;"  and  bv  his  dving  words  I  fhali  moft  furely 
abidc." 

•4He 


■226         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  He  meant  to  fay,"  ciicJ  the  Doctor  vehemently, 
"  that  you  fliould  give  her  half  of  all  he  died  poucH'ed 
of." 

"  It  may  be  to  thy  advantage,  friend,  (laid  ihe  fncer- 
}  to  h&ve  his  laft  will  l'o  underftood.  The  An- 
gular attentions  of  one  of  thy  relatives  to  Rachel  lias 
not  palFed  unnoticed  ;  and  1  think  thy  family  is  re- 
iBle  for  promoting  its  own  intereft  at  the  cxpenfe 
of  otk  s 

It  was  a  reproach  too  pointed  to  be  mifunderftood  ; 
but  it  fprung  from  a  mind  fo  debafed,  that  it  was  be- 
neath notice.  The  Doctor  tpek  his  hat,  and  viihed 
Tabitha  a  good  night.  Rachel  arofe  to  light  him  to 
the  dcor. 

"  My  good,  dear  girl,"  faid  he,  "  I  would  fain  have 
procured  from  this  woman  a  fmall  independence  for 
you  ;  but  it  is  in  vain  to  flatter  you  with  the  idea.  But 
this  give  me  leave  to  fay,  Should  you  not  hear  from 
your  brother,  and  your  reiidence  with  dame  Tabitha 
becomes  painful,  I  have  a  home.  My  lifter  and  my- 
felf  both  po/Tefs  hearts,  which  I  thank  God  are  not 
yet  quite  petrified."  Saying  which,  he  fhook  her 
hand  and  left  her. 

Rachel  foon  perceived  the  full  extent  of  her  unhap- 
py fituation.  The  morning  after  the  interment  of  her 
ancle,  Tabitha  paid  her  thirty  guineas,  and  from  that 
moment  ihe  found  that  flie  was  looked  upon  as  an  in- 
truder in  the  family. 

Rachel  was  not  of  a  fpirit  to  brook  the  cold  hauteur 
of  Tabitha.  Nor  could  fhe  think  of  awaiting  herfelf  of 
the  kind  offer  of  Dr.  Lenient.  For,  befides  that  fhe 
ihi  unk  from  the  weight  of  obligation,  (he  alfo  felt  there 
would  be  an  impropriety  in  her  fecking  an  afylum  in 
the  family  of  Hamden  Auberry.  She  was  not  infen- 
fible  to  his  merit,  nor  had  Ihe  hftened  unmoved  to  the 
cxprellions  of  attachment  that  had  fomctimes  acci- 
dentally efcaped  his  lips.  For  Hamden  knew  he  fhoukl 
have  many  obftacles  to  encounter,  fliould  he  give  way 
to  a  paffion  for  a  woman  in  the  ftate  o{  life  in  which 
fortune  had  placed  Rachel.     Lady' Anne  would  never 

b; 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.         227 

be  brought  to  approve  of  his  allying  himfelf  to  a  perfon, 
who  had  neither  rank  or  wealth  to  recommend  her. 

Rachel  law  the  druggie  of  his  mind,  and,  attributing 
that  Lo  pride  which  was  only  the  effect  of  caution,  re- 
folved  never  to  intrude  herfelf  into  a  family  which  would 
look  upon  her  connexion  as  degrading  to  its  principal 
branch. 

Having  therefore  formed  a  plan  for  her  future  con- 
duct, Rachel  took  an  affectionate  leave  of  the  worthy 
Doctor  and  his  filler,  and  a  very  cool  one  of  Tabitha, 
land  departed  in  the  ihiqe-coach  for  London,  rcfolving 
to  coniult  and  advhc  with  her  friend  }-J',\  Oliver,  in 
regard  to  her  executing  the  fcherhe  lhe  had  thought  of 
for  her  fubfiftence  till  ihe  fhould  hear  from  Reuben. 
Mrs.  Auberry  gave  her  a  letter  to  a  reputable  family, 
^with  whom  lhe  propofed  to  board.  Hamden  was 
abfent  at  the  time  of  Rachel's  departure  on  a  hilling 
party,  and  on  his  return,  his  mother  merely  informed 
him  that  Mils  Dudley  was  gone  to  London  ;  but  willi- 
ing  to  put  a  flop  to  any  further  intimacy  between 
them,  (he  did  not  mention  with  whom  ihe  would  rcfide, 
or  how  long  her  ftay  might  probably  be  in  the  metrop- 
olis ;  and  as  he  was  engaged  to  pall'  the  autumn  with 
lady  Anne  in  Scotland,  he  was  not  lb  inquifitive  as  he 
might  otherwifc  have  been. 

Rachel  got  fafe  to  the  end  of  her  journey  without 
meeting  with  any  adventure  on  the  road.  But  unac- 
.cuftomed  to  travelling,  (lie  was  greatly  fatigued  ;  and 
when  (lie  entered  the  bufy  ftreets  of  London,  the  noife, 
confufum  and  hurry  made  her  head  giddy  ;  the  diia- 
greeable  effluvia  too,  which  affailed  her  olfactory  nerves 
as  (he  alighted  from  the  coach  in  a  very  clofe  lane  in 
the  city,  turned  her  extremely  fick,  and  ihe  would 
have  fallen,  had  not  a  fpruce  young  man,  who  was 
waiting  for  another  coach  to  arrive,  caught  her  by  the 
arm,  and  led  her  into  thchoufe,  where  a  few  drops  and 
water  revived  her,  and  lhe  began  to  inquire  for  a  con- 
veyaiice  in  which  lhe  might  proceed  to  her  lodginrs. 
A  hackney-coach  was  lent  for,  and  while  flie  waited 
for  it,  the  young  man  re-entered  the  parlour  where  lhe 

V  ... 


228         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  «*, 

was  fitting,  introducing  a  middle-aged  woman,  dreiT- 
ed  to  the  extremity  of  the  falhion. 

"  Walk  in  and  fit  down,  Mifs  La  Varonc,"  faid  he, 
"I  will  order  the  negus  immediately-/'  Then  turn- 
ing to  our  heroine,  he  continued,  "  And  how  do  you 
find  yourfclf  now,  ma'am  ?" 

M  Much  better,  Sir,  I  thank  you,"  faid  Rachel. 

*'  Have  you  been  fick,  ma'am  I"  fakl  Mifs  La 
Varone. 

"  I  am  not  ufed  to  travelling,  and  was  rather  faint 
when  I  firft  alighted  ;  but  it  was  only  fatigue,  and  the 
air  of  London  is  not  quite  fo  pure  as  that  1  have  been 
accuflomed  to  from  my  infancy.'5 

"  Oil  dear  me  !  I  don't  wonder,  ma'am,  if  you  nev- 
er were  in  London  before,  that  it  made  you  lick. 
Then  this  lane  is  fo  clofe  ;  and  I  proteft  it  made  me 
as  fick  as  could  be.  But  pray,  ma'am,  to  what  part 
of  the  town  are  you  going?  Pei  haps  one  coach  will 
ferve  us  both." 

Rachel  looked  at  the  direction  in  her  memorandum 
book,  and  Mifs  La  Varone  exclaimed,  "Well,  as  i' 
alive,  we   arc   both   going   to   the   fame  place.     M: 
Spriggins,  this  young  lady  is  going  to  your  aunt's. 

Rachel  knew  but  little  of  the  world  in  general,  ani 
lefs  of  London  than  almoft  any  other  place  ;  yet  then 
was  a  fomething  within  her,  a  kind  of  native  rectitude, 
that  told  her  not  to  be  too  eafy  in  agreeing  to  the  pro- 
pofa'l  of  the  ftrangcrs  who  faid  they  would  all  go  to  Sirs. 
Webfter's  together.  Yet  her  politenefs  and  good-na- 
ture was  fuch,  as  would  not  fuller  her  to  repulfe  them 
rudely.  Befides,  there  was  fomething  in  the  appear- 
ance of  La  Varone,  however  familiar  her  addrefs  had 
been,  that  prepolfefled  her  in  her  favour.  She  was  a 
fmall,  delicate  woman ;  her  pale  countenance,  the 
features  of  which  were  extremely  regular,  was  orna- 
mented by  an  animated  pair  of  black  eyes,  and  lnn;r, 
dark  eye-la  (lies.  Herdrefs,  it  is  true,  was  in  Rachel's 
opinion  rather  too  gay  ;  but  fhe  was  totally  unac- 
quainted with  the  ftyle  of  drefs  that  might  be  fafhiona- 
ble  in  London,  and  therefore  pafled  this  circumftance 
the  more  eafily  over. 

Finding 


m 
•re" 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  229 

"Finding  it  Impoflible  to  fcparate  herfelf  from  her 
new  acquaintances,  flie  contented  herfelf  with  giving 
the  hackney-coachman  particular  initructions  where 
to  carry  her,  and  in  lefs  than  half  an  hour  found  her- 
felf at  Mrs.  Webfter's,  in  Dartmouth-ftreet,  Weftmin- 
Djbt.  Mr.  Spriggins,  (who  was  ihopman  to  a  fills  mer- 
cer in  the  vicinity  of  St.  James's  Park)  boarded  with 
his  aunt,  and  Mifs  La  Varone  occupied  the  feconl 
floor  of  the  houfe. 

Rachel  begged  an  early  cup  of  tea,  and  then  retired 
to  the  apartment  prepared  for  her  ;  where  wearied  na- 
ture was  refrefhed  by  fevenil  hours  of  profound  flcep. 
But  the  fatigue  which  bad  accelerated  her  repofe, 
gradually  giving  way  to  its  effects,  her  {lumbers  be- 
came lighter,  and  about  three  o'clock,  Ihc  became  fen- 
iibleofthe  (to  her)  unufual  noifes  that  furrouuded 
her.  The  hollow  voices  of  die  watchmen,  the  rat- 
tling of  coaches  and  carts,  the  riotous  mirth  cf  intem- 
perate wretches  of  both  fexes,  who,  under  the  black 
veil  of  night,  prowled  through  the  ftrects  in  fearch  cf 
prey  ;  all  together  ftruck  on  the  alloniihed  cars  of  our 
heroine,  who,  not  immediately  recollecting  where  flic 
was,  fprang  out  of  bed,  exclaiming,  "  Heavens !  what 
is  the  mutter  ?"  However,  as  Rachel  was  not 
troubled  with  weak  nerves,  and  had  in  general  great 
prel'cnce  of  mind,  (he  preftntly  grew  collected,  remem- 
bered ihe  was  in  London,  returned  to  her  bed,  and  en- 
deavoured to  obtain  another  vifit  from  the  leaden- 
winged  god.  He  liilened,  and  was  propitious  to  her 
entreaties,  and  at  eight  o'clock  the  following  morning 
the  continued  if  ill  locked  in  his  embraces. 

C  H  A  P.      VIII. 

Vifds—C'.ivrjltks. 

THE  fcene  of  life  into  which  Rachel  had  now  en- 
tered was  every   way  new   to  her.      Her   inten- 
tions in  avoiding  the  family  of  Dr.  Lenient  on  account 
W  P  •  of 


23o         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

of  young  Aubcrry  were  laudable  ;  but  her  open  and 
ingenuous  nature,  fearlefs  of  guile,  becaufe  intending 

none,  was  not  competent  to  the  talk  ihe  had  underta- 
ken. Humane,  generous,  and  credulous  in  the  ex- 
treme, lhc  felt  that  every  human  being  had  a  claim 
upon  her  affection  ;  and  willingly  allowing  that  claim 
to  others,  ihe  readily  believed  every  profeffion  of  friend- 
ihip  made  to  herfelf. 

.  Mrs.  Wcbfter  was  a  woman  of  moderate  un- 
derftanding,  devoid  of  knowledge,  and  with  a  very 
Jmall  fhare  of  curiofity,  and  being  a  widow  with 
three  girls,  the  eldeft  of  which  was  but  fixtcen,  ihe 
had  to  work  extremely  .hard  at  her  bufinefs,  which 
was  that  of  a  hoop-petticoat  maker,  to  fupport  hej 
family.  From  fuch  a  woman,  Rachel  had  nothing 
cither  to  hope  or  apprehend.  She  enjoyed  from  the 
effects  of  her  care  a  very  neat  apartment,  and  regular 
decent  meals  ;  but  as  to  any  idea  of  a  companion,  it 
was  entirely  out  of  the  queftion.  The  daughters  were 
young,  and  their  minds  totally  uninformed;  they 
were  of  confequence  unfit  fociety  for  her.  To  whom 
therefore  could  ihe  look  to  enliven  her  folitude  by 
cheerful  convcrfation  ?  Mifs  La  Varone  had  read  a 
great  deal,  though  not  in  moft  inftruflive  authors. 
She  had  a  confiderable  degree  of  fuperficial  knowl- 
edge, was  chatty,  good-humoured,  and  fhidious  to  ren- 
der herfelf  agreeable.  She  became  the  conftant  com- 
panion of  Rachel,  and  was  unfortunately  the  moll  im- 
proper companion  Ihe  could  have  chofen. 

Mils  La  Varone  was  the  daughter  of  a  Swifs  valet, 
who,  having  faved  a  confiderable  fum  of  money  in  the 
fervice  of  a  nobleman,  and  received  a  legacy  at  his 
death,  married  the  lady's  maid,  and  opened  a  per- 
fumery and  toy-mop,  in  which  he  fuccecded  extremely 
well  ;  efpecially  when  his  daughter  grew  old  enough 
to  attend  the  cuftomers,  her  pretty  face  and  lively 
manner  acting  as  a  taiiiman  to  draw  young  men  of 
fathion  thither. 

But  human  happinefs  is  futile  !  A  fire  broke  out 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  their  houfc  was  confumed 
ambngft  a  number  of  others,    and   as   their   property 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         231 

was  not  infurcd,  a  few  hours  reduced  them  from  a 
Mate  of  competence  to  abfolute  beggary.  The  old 
man  received  a  hurt,  in  endeavouring  to  fave  part  ot 
his  flock,  which  he  did  not  long  furvive.  The  moth- 
er again  went  to  fervice,  and  procured  employment 
for  her  daughter  in  the  fame  family.  The  cldefl  fon 
of  this  family  was  plcafed  with  her  ;  offered  her'  a  fet- 
tlement  ;  and  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  La  Varone  quit- 
ted the  protection  of  her  mother,  to  accept  that  of  a 
libertine.  Her  mother  had  perhaps  a  higher  fenfe  of 
virtue  than  pcrfons  in  her  fituation  are  in  general  fup- 
pbfed  to  poifefs.  She  remonilratcd,  entreated,  en- 
deavoured by  every  poflible  means  to  reclaim  her  ; 
but  finding  all  equally  ineffectual,  renounced  her. 
And  though  fhe  had,  without  murmuring,  returned 
to  her 'original  way  of  life,  and  fubmitted  patiently  to 
the  privation  of  thofe  comforts  fhe  had  many  years  en- 
joyed, and  which  had  been  the  fruits  of  her  own  in- 
dullry,  yet  fhe  could  not  meet  fhamc  without  repin- 
ing. Her  child's  difhonour  funk  deep  into  her  heart, 
and  in  a  very  fliort  time  put  a  period  to  her  exiftence. 
•  La  Varone  continued  with  her  admirer  till  he  mar- 
ried ;  fhe  then  removed  from  all  her  former  connex- 
ions, into  the  houfe  where  our  heroine  was  now  be- 
come an  inmate.  She  had  been  an  eafy  conqueil  ;  her 
fettlement  was  confequently  not  large.  However,  fhe 
kept  up  a  genteel  appearance,  and  frequently  received 
vilits  from  an  elderly  gentleman,  a  coufin,  who  was  a 
member  of  parliament.  She  faw  but  little  company 
befides  ;  but  fhe  would  expatiate  for  an  hour  on  the 
charms  of  retirement ;  fo  her  living  fo  reclufe  was  not 
furprifmg.  Her  favourite  amufement  was  a  play,  and 
fometimes  little  excurfions  in  the  country,  where  lhe 
would  flay  four  or  five  days  at  a  time. 

The  day  after  Rachel's  arrival  in  London  was  de- 
voted to  reft.  Mils  La  Varone  was  extremely  atten- 
tive, invited  her  to  take  tea  in  her  apartment,  where 
Mr.  Spriggins  alfo  attended,  and  the  elder  Mifs  Web- 
flcr.  Here-  they  talked  of  the  many  curiofities  to  be 
feen  in  London.  Wellminfler  Abbey,  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral,  the   Monument,   the  Tower,  the  Palace  ;    all 

which 


232         REUBEN    am)    RACHEL;  ox, 

which  Mifs  La  Varone  faid  they  muft  pofitively  vifit, 
and  the  gentleman  i  ffcred  very  politely  to  be  their 
gaHant. 

Rachel  was  not  devoid  of  curiofity.  She  had  ccme 
up  to  the  metropolis  with  the  beft  rcfolutions  in  the 
woild,  and  Mrs.  Aubcrry,  when  lhe  recommended 
her  to  Mrs.  Webfter'a  to  board,  thought  ftie  had  ren- 
dered  hex  young  mend  a  very  acceptable  piece  <  f  fer- 
\  ice.  But  ihe  r.cver  reflected,  that  twenty-five  years 
make  a   moil  amazing  difference   in  the  manners  and 

o  g  ... 

difpofition  of  a  perfon,  especially  ii  in  that  period  they 
have  fullered  much  affliction,  and  from  narrow  cir- 
cuimlances  being  unavoidably  thrown  into  the  fociety 
of  people,  whole  educations  having  been  circumfcrib- 
edj  are  ofien  the  Oaves  of  contracted,  low  ideas  and  il- 
liberal prejudices;  and  it  frequently  happens,  that 
tliofc  who  are  obliged  to  work  incelTantly  for  the  iup- 
pcirt  of  their  families,  being  wholly  occupied  in  the 
hope  of  bettering  their  fortune,  become  inattentive  to 
appearances,  and  overlook  actions,  which  earlier  in 
life  would  have  (truck  them  with  horror.  This  was 
laterally  the  cafe  with  Mrs.  Webfter.  The  Mrs.  Wtb- 
ftcr  whom  Mrs.  Auberry  knew  fo  many  years  fmce, 
and  lhe  to  whole  care  fhe  now  recommended  her 
young  friend,  were  as  oppofite  in  perfon,  manner,  and 
way  of  thinking,  as  if  it  had  not  been  the  fame,  but 
two  diltinel  people. 

The  fecond  morning,  Rachel  took  a  hackney-coach, 
and  drove  to  the  houi'e  of  Mr.  Oliver,  in  the  vicinity 
of  St.  James's.  She  was  f till  in  mourning  ;  a  grey 
tabby  night-gown,  with  black  cuffs  and  robins  a  plain 
lawn  cap,  apron,  handkerchief,  and  ruffles,  was  the 
drefs  in  which  fhe  prepared  to  vifit  her  friend  Jcil'y. 
But  a  woman  thus  habited  and  in  a  hackney-coach 
was  not  likely  to  challenge  much  attention  from  the 
gay  lackers  whe  waited  in  the  hail  of  Mr.  Oliver. 

"  Is  Mils  Oliver  at  home,   friend  :"  faid  fhe  to  the 

footman  who   came  to   the  door.     A   furly   No  !  was 

all  the  anfwer  fhe  received,   and  the   man  was  again 

Ihutting  the  door. 

"Is 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         233 

"  Is  (he  expected  home  foon  :"  faid  flie,  putting  her 
han  J  out  to  prevent  it  from  doling. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it,"  faid  the  fellow. 

Rachel  had  defcended  from  the  carriage  before  the 
coachman  had  knocked  for  admittance,  and  was  (land- 
ing on  the  upper  ftep  ot  a  flight  of  ftone  ftairs  which 
led  up  on  each  fide  from  the  flxeet.  Her  figure  had 
attracted  the  eyes  of  Archibald,  who  was  at  home  at 
this  time,  and  feated  in  a  front  parlour  window,  killing 
time  with  a  political  pamphlet.  Hearing  her  voice  at 
the  door,  and  understanding  from  the  tune  of  the  fer- 
v.'.ni's  voice  that  he  was  not  anfwering  in  a  very  civil 
manner,  he  opened  the  parlour  door  jult  as  lhe  was 
turning  to  defcend  the  Reps. 

"  You  were  inquiring  for  Mils  Oliver,  madam," 
faiJ  lie  ;  "  fhe  is  at  preient  out  of  town,  but  1  expect 
to  fee  her  to-morrow.  Who  (hall  I  tell  her  did  her 
the  honour  to  call  :" 

y  name  is  Dudley,"  laid  Rachel. 
•udley  !   is  it  poflible  ;  the  filler  of  my  friend  Reu- 
ben ?" 

"The  fame  !" 

"  How  happy  I  am,  Mil's  Dudley  !'  Give  mc  leave 
to  wait  on  you  to  your  place  of  relidence.  I  wifli  to 
alk  after  your  brother  ;  I  have  alfo  fome  intereiting 
intelligence  to  communicate  to  you  concerning  my 
filler."  He  faid  this  as  he  handed  her  to  the  coach. 
Then  calling  for  his  hat,  before  Rachel  could  collect 
herfclf  fufficiently  to  refufe  or  accept  his  propofal,  he 
was  feated  in  the  carriage  bcfi.de  her,  and  inquired 
where  he  lhould  order  it  to  be  driven. 

"  Perhaps,  my  dear  Mifs,"  {aid  young  Oliver  as  the 
coach  drove  off,  "you  may  think  it  particular  that  I 
did  not  prefs  you  to  enter  my  father's  houfe.  But  to 
confiefs  a  mortifying  truth,  neither  Jelfy  nor  rayfelf  arc 
allowed  to  take  any  more  liberties  there  than  we  lhould 
be  in  the  houfe  of  an  entire  llrangcr.  My  poor  father 
is  ruled  entirely  by  Mrs.  Oliver,  and  his  children  have 
but  a  fecondary  place  in  his  afleclions." 

"  Pray  make  no  apologies,    Mr.  Oliver,"   faid   Ra- 
chel, having  a  little  recovered  from  the  flatter  into 
W  2  which 


234         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

which  his  apparently   odd   conduct   had   thrown  hei 
"  apologies  arc  quite  nceJleil.      1  had  no  wiili  to  enter 
the  home  e*cc^pt  my  dear  Jefly  had  been  an  inmate  o£ 
it.     But    you  laid   you   had  ibme  intercfling  intelli- 
gence." 

"  True,  but  before  I  enter  on  it,  tell  me,  when  did 
you  hear  from  your  brother  ?" 

"  1  have  not  received  the  lead:  intelligence  from  him 

fmce    he    Left    England  ;   and   ibmetimes    I  fear " 

Rachel's  eyes  tilled  ;  her  bofom  heaved. 

"  Oh  do  not  fear,"  faid  Oliver,  refpeclfully  taking 
her  hand  :  "  Letters  may  miicarry  ;  you  will  no  doubt 
hear  ibon.  But  apropos  of  Jefly  ;  has  me  not  written 
to  you  lately  ?    I  underftood  you  correfponded." 

"  We  did  ;  but  I  have  not  received  a  letter  from  her 
for  nearly  two  months  part;." 

"  Poor  Jefly,  fhe  had  nothing  pleafant  to  employ 
her  pen,  and  fhe  always  had  an  averfion  to  endeavour- 
ing to  lighten  her  own  forrows  by  impofmg  a  recital  of 
them  on  the  attention  of  others." 

He  then  proceeded  to  inform  her,  that  his  filter  had 
unfortunately  (as  it  proved)  been  Gngled  out  by  a  no- 
bleman of  elevated  rank  and  fplendid  fortune,  as  the 
perfon  with  whom  he  wiihed  to  ihare  thofe  advan- 
tages. He  folicited  her  hand,  was  encouraged  by  both 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oliver,  but  refolutely  rejected  by  Jefly 
herfelf. 

"  My  father,"  continued  he,  "  who  (as  I  mentioned 
before)  has  no  will  but  his  wife's,  has  lent  the  poor 
girl  into  the  country,  debarring  her  of  all  fociety,  and 
declaring  flic  fliall  ftay  there  till  flic  accepts  his  Lcrd- 
fhip  ;  and  I,  who  know  her  difpofition,  think  that  fen- 
tence  is  tantamount  to  faying  lhe  fliall  ftay  there  as 
long  as  ihe  lives." 

"  She  is  right  to  perfevere  in  reje&ing  him,"  faid 
Rachel,  "  if  lhe  does  not  feel  her  heart  iufficiently  at- 
tached to  him  to  incline  her  to  lhare  his  pains  and 
plea lures  through  life.  For  of  all  the  miferies  that  can 
be  endured  by  a  human  being,  fine  none  can  be  fo  fe- 
vere  as  being  obliged  to  fubmit  to  the  whims  and  ca- 
prices 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         235 

prices  (for  we  all  have  them)  of  a  perfon  to  whom  wb 
are  perfectly  indifferent.*' 

Oliver  gazed  at  her,  as  fae  thus,  with  unaftecr.ed 
freedom,  delivered  her  Sentiments  en  a  fubjeft,  which 
the  generality  of  thole  young  women  with  whom  he 
was  acquainted  would  have  blufhed  only  to  have  heard 
mentioned.  But  Rachel  was  entirely  free  from  af- 
fectation of  every  kind  ;  fhe  had  no  ide;:,  but  that  a 
woman  might  fpeak  on  the  Subjects  of  love  and  mar- 
riage, without  limpcring,  bluihing,  and  fifty  other  lit- 
tle foclilh  prettincifes.  Nor  did  (lie  feel  the  leaft  cm- 
barra.Ted  in  converting  with  a  perfon  of  the  Oppofitc 
fex  ;  for  it  had  never  entered  her  head,  that  every 
man  who  faw  her  mult  fall  in  love  with  her,  cr  that 
they  could  not  pafs  an  hour  in  her  company  without 
entertaining  her  with  praifes  of  her  wit  and  beauty,  and 
complaints  of  their  ownJiopelcfs  paflion. 

When  the  coach  therWore  (lopped,  and  Rachel  afk- 
ed  him  to  walk  in,  he  eagerly  availed  himfelf  of  the 
invitation  ;  and  after  fitting  with  her  till  fhe  was  fum- 
moned  to  dinner,  left  her,  impre fled  with  fo  high  an 
opinion  of  her  understanding,  that  he  thought  her  the 
mole  fuperior  woman  he  had  ever  known.  She  had 
promifed  to  entruft  him  with  a  letter  to  her  friend  Jel- 
ly, and  he  was  determined  to  call  for  it  himfelf,  that 
he  might  enjoy  another  half  hour  of  her  fociety.  But 
in  this  he  was  disappointed  ;  for  immediately  after 
dinner,  Rachel  wrote  her  letter,  and  leaving  it  with 
Mrs.  Webfter  in  cafe  it  fhould  be  fent  for  before  her 
return,  me  took  one  of  the  little  girls  with  her,  and 
walked  to  the  houfe  of  Mr.  Andrew  Atkins,  in  Lin- 
corn's-lnn,  hoping  to  hear  lime  tidings  of  Reuben, 
and  a'.lb  to  inquire  how  long  it  would  be  before  fire 
might  expect  to  receive  any  money  on  account  of  the 
eState  in  Lancashire. 

Being  (hewn  into  a  parlour,  and -having  fent  up  her 
name,  the  was  deSired  to  wait  till  Mr.  Atkins  had  din- 
ed, when  he  would  wait  on  her  immediately.  In  about 
an  hour,  he  appeared,   accompanied  by  the  identical 

Mr. 


236        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Mr.  Allili  who  had  vlfited  herfelf  and  brother  in  the 

countr)'. 

Rachel  rofe  from  her  feat. 

"  Servant,  ML':-,"  faid  .     ightly  bowing; 

and  ."without  afking  her  to  refume  her  feat.  "Pray 
what  may  be  your  commands  with  me  :" 

"  I  wifh  to  know  whether  you  have  had  any  intelli- 
gence fxom  my  brother  fince  his  departure  from  En- 
gland."' 

u  Intelligence  ?  No  indeed  !  I  wonder  you  ihoul  J 
think  of  my  hearing  from  him  ;  his  going  to  America 
v.  s  a  wild-goofe  ichemc.  What  does  lie  expert  to 
ret  there  •:'' 

"  He  expects  to  take  pofleflTon  of  his  father's  eftatc, 
which  he  purcdiafed  in  Pennfylvania." 

"Pfhaw.1  plhaw  !  Dudley  made  no  purchafe  there 
worth  inquiring  afte\     An  ..  ed  tract  of  land, 

v.\:\\  a  paltry  houfe  upon  rr,  which  my  very  good 
friend  and  correfpondent,  Mr.  Jacob  Holmes,  has  in- 
formed me  is  entirely  fallen  down." 

"Jacob  Holmes,  did  you  fay  ?"  cried  Rachel  in 
breathlefs  agitation,  "  "Why  that  is  the  very  man  my 
father  mentions  in  his  letter  to  have  left  in  charge  of 
his  create.  He  was  brought  up  in  my  father's  houfe. 
Can  he  advance  fuch  an  untruth,  when  he  muft  be  con- 
feious :" 

"  Come,  come,  Mils  Dudley,  don't  fpeak  againft  Mr. 
Holmes  ;  he  is  a  very  worthy,  honeft  man..  Your 
father  lived  in  a  very  expensive  ftvle  in  Philadelphia, 
fpent  a  great  deal  of  money,  more  a  great  deal  than 
he  ought.  Even  the  trifling  purchafe  he  did  make  of 
land  was  not  half  paid  for." 

"  Sir  !  Sir  !"  cried  Rachel,  waving  her  hand  witfi 
dignity,  "  1  muft  not  hear  the  memory  of  my  father 
treated  with  difrefpeft.  You  may  have  been  taught 
to  believe  what  you  now  affert  ;  or.  perhaps,  (darting 
an  indignant  look  at  him)  your  profdlion  accuftoms 
you  confident]  j  to  ■  licit  what  you  do  not  believe  to  be 
true.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  fee  my  brother  and  myfelf 
are  two  unprotected  orphans."  Here  her  cheeks  af- 
fumed  a  pallid  hue,  her  lips  trembled,  and  ilie  was  un- 
able 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         237 

Bible  to  proceed  ;  and  though  the  unfeeling  Atkins  had 
kept  her  (landing  while  he  fpoke  to  her.,  her  agitation 
Was  now  fo  great,  that  fhc  was  obliged  to  fit  down,  cv 
the  would  have  fallen. 

44  As  1  would  wifh  to  fave  you  the  unnecetfary  trou- 
ble of  ck&ing  On  rne  again,  1  have  brought  Mr.  Allibi, 
wlio  fortunately  was  dining  with  :ne,  to  give  you  any 
information  you  way  require  concerning  the  Lanca- 
shire bufmefs." 

"  I  am  forry,  my  fair  h-.dy,"  laid  Allibi,  "  that  it  is 
not  in  my  power  to  give  you  fuel;  information  as  you 
may  perhaps  exptct  ;  but  fo  many  unexpected  de- 
mands have  beefi  made,  that  1  hardly  think  the  eflate 
will  ever  be  able  to  recover  itfelf.  1  have  here  (draw- 
ing a  memorandum  book  from  his  pocket)  fome  few 
memorandums  of  the  Hate  of  the  affairs  at  prefent. 
Y,  benever  you  lhall  rccpihe  it,  Mifs  Dudley,  I  will  lay 
a  regular  itatcment  of  the  accounts  before  yon,  and 
fubmlt  the  whole  of  our  proceedings  to  your  invciti- 
gation." 

Rachel  felt  that  this  fceming  integrity  was  an  infult 
to  her  imderdanding.  Affuming,  therefore,  an  appear- 
ance of  fortitude  that  Hie  was  fal  from  feelimi,  the  ex- 
creed  herfelf  to  rife  from  her  feat. 

"  Good  Mr.  Allibi,"  faid  file,  conveying  as  much 
acrimony  into  her  looks  and  manner,  as  it  was  poffible 
for  her  voice  and  features  to  exprefs,  "  of  what  fer- 
Vice  will  it  be  for  mc  to  examine  or  inveftigate  thoie 
accounts  ?  Did  you,  or  your  refpettable  client,  Mr. 
An  hew  Atkins  imagine  me  competent  to  the  talk, 
you  wpuld  never  have  10  readily  offered  it.  but  I  am 
a  woman — an  orphan  ;  young,  inexpe.ic.iced,  unpro- 
tected ;  and  even  fuppofing  1  could  difcover  errors, 
who  is  there  to  fupport  my  auertions  ?  1  am  poor, 
and  I  can  plainly  perceive,  you  have  inclination  as 
Avell  as  reaions  for  keeping  me  fo.  Oh  that  my  injur- 
ed brother  were  but  here  !" 

"  You  fpeak  pointedly,  Mifs  Dudley,"   faid  Atkins. 

M  I  fpeak  as  1  feci,"  replied  Rachel. 

M  But  you  are  too  warm,  my  fair  lady,"  faid  Allibi. 

"  Par, Ion 


233         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;   ok, 

"  Pardon  me,"  cried  Rachel,  "  I  do  not  think  I  am  " 
warm  enough.     Oli !  that   i  could  find  words  ade- 
quate to  the  indignation  of  my  foul  !     Do  not  mifun- 
derftand  me  ;  for  myfelf  I  ani  but  little  concerned  ' 
I  have  an  innocent  mind  that  can  be  humble  vficn  re- 
quired, and  hand;  that  are  not  ufelefs.     But  toy  broth-' 
er  is  in  a  ftrange  land  ;  for  him  I  feel  a  rhoufand  fears.  " 
My  father's  memory  has  been  traduced  ;  on  that  fub- 
jecr,    my  feelings  are  too    powerful   for  utterance.      If 
my  raft  judgment   wrong-!  you,   gentlemen,    Heaven 
pardon  the  error.      Fcr  1  leave  you  in  the  full  perlua- 
fion,  that  on   whichever   fide   the  wrong  is,  the  great 
Redreuer  of  injuries,  the   righteous  Father  of  the  op- 
pre/led,   will   impartially  judge   between   us.      By  his 
fentence  we  mult  abid'V  and  to  him  in   humble  conri-1 
dence  1  fubmit  my  caufe."  ,     . 

As  flic  £«rtfied  fpeaking,  fhe  hurried  out  of  the 
hoii.'e,  to  prevent  their  being  witnefs  to  emotions  which 
fhe  was  unable  longer  to  fupprefs  ;  and  fhe  found  her- 
ffelf  in  the  fquare  oppofite  Newcafilehoufe,  before  fhe 
was  fufficicntly  collected  to  remember  to  what  part  of  ' 
the  town  fhe  was  going.  Polly  Webfter,  who  had 
ihewri  her  the  Way  to  Atkins's,  had  left  her  at  the 
door,  as  dig  had  fome  errands  to  execute  for  her  moth- 
er in  the  Strand.  Our  heroine  had  imagined  fhe  ihould 
eafily  find  her  way  home  again  ;  but  when  fhe  found 
herfelf  in  a  place  with  which  fhe  was  wholly  unac- 
quainted, and  endeavoured  in  vain  to  recover  recollec- 
tion furficient  to  guide  her  to  the  right  road,  fhe  began 
to  be  uneafy.  She  wilhed  for  a  coach,  but  there  was 
not  one  came  near  her  but  what  was  previoufly  occu- 
pied. She  walked  ftraight  forward  through,  a  narrow 
paflage,  which  fhe  imagined  fhe  had  parted  through 
b.f  re  ;  it  took  her  into  High-Holbcrn.  The  throng 
of  people,  the  multitude  of  carriages,  and  appearance 
of  the  (hops,  led  her  to  think  fhe  was  in  the  Strand  ; 
and  turning  to  the  right  hand,  fhe  purfued  her  way, 
expecting  every  moment  to  reach  Charing-Crofs.  But 
as  (he  proceeded,  fhe  began  to  perceive  the  difference 
pf  the  (unrounding  objects,  and  became  ferioufly  alarm- 
ed.    A  heavy  ihower  appeared  threatening  in  the  air, 

and 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  239 

and  even  at  Holborn-Bafs,  Rachel  could  not  procure 
a  coach.  The  lightning  had  for  fome  time  gleamed 
in  the  horizon  ;  the  thunder  which  had  rolled  diftant- 
ly  now  came  nearer,  and  an  univerfal  war  of  elements 
feemed  approaching.  Rachel  looked  round  with  in- 
,  creafmg  appreheniion.  The  tempeft  now  burft  forth 
at  once  ;  wind,  thunder,  hail,  and  lheets  of  liquid  fire, 
rendered  the  icene  tremendous.  To  avoid  the  fury  of 
the  ftorm,  Rachel  ran  up  an  entry  which  led  to  a  large 
old-fafhioncd  manfion,  and  though  not  eafily  terrified, 
the  late  incidents  had  lb  opprefled  hfr  fpirits,  that  fhe 
fat  down  on  the  iteps,  and  burft  into  an  hyfterical  flood 
.  of  tears. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  woman  :"  faid  a  man  who 
was  coming  from  the  houfe. 

The  brutal  tone  of  this  addrefs,  the  ferocious  appear- 
ance of  the  fellow  that  uttered  it,  was  an  additional 
caufc  of  terror.  She  rofe,  endeavoured  to  fpeak,  but 
could  not ;  and  when  the  attempted  to  walk,  her  limbs 
failed  her,  and  fhe  funk  again  upon  the  ftcp. 

"  Why,  miltrcfr,  you  JiaVe  taken  a  little  too  much 
cordial  to-day,"  laid  the  fame  man  ;  "  but  come,  I'll 
lead  you  down  the  paiiage,  and  then  you  mult  go  on 
as  well  as  you  can  ;  for  you  can't  ftay  here." 

Rachel,  though  overcome  with  terror,  was  perfectly 
fenfible.  She  heard  the  remark  made  on  her  apparent 
helplefmefs,  endeavoxired  to  repel  the  violence  of  her 
emotions,  and  exert  that  fortitude  of  which  (lie  was 
poilefled. 

"  I  merely  came  here  for  fheltcr  from  the  ftorm," 
faid  fhe  ;  "  and  if  I  could  procure  a  coach " 

"  Well,  miilrefs,"  faid  a  dirty,  ragged  boy,  "  if  you 
will  give  me  a  (hilling,  I  will  call  you  one." 

Rachel  readily  agreed  to  the  propofal,  and  was  put- 
ting lier  hand  to  herpocket,  when  there  was  a  cry  in 
the  crowd  that  was  now  gathered,  that  a  pick-pocket 
was  amongft  them.     A  young  naval  officer  faid  he 

);had  loft  his  watcli  and  purfc.      '  *vecp  all  in,  keep  all 
in,'  was  the  cry,  and  the  throng  ruflied  up  the  paffage, 
fo  that  Rachel  found  herfelf  in  an  inilantfurrounded  by 
)tley  group  of  people,  the  chief  part  of  which  but 

t» 


2+o         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

to  have  been  obliged  to  fpcakto,  would  have  filled  her 
at  once  with  terror  And  difguft.  But  what  were  her  fenfa- 
tions  when,  putting  herhand  again  to  her  pocket,  (he 
found  a  ftrange  purfe  lunging  partly  out,  and  felt  a 
watch  actually  within  it.  Before  (he  could  (peak, a  wom- 
an feized her  arm,  and  holding  her  hand  fo  that  lhecruld 
not  withdraw  it,  ihe  cried  that  ilie  had  found  the  thief. 
Rachel's  ftrength  and  (pints  now  at  once  forfook  her  ; 
(he  fetched  a  deep  figh,  and  fell  fenfieiefs  into  the  arms 
qf  the  perfon  who  had  been  robbed. 

"  The  poor  ere.  'aire  is  ill,"  laid  he;  "(land  away, 
ruffians,  and  let  her  hare  air."  Then  carrying  her  to 
the  entrance  of  the  paflage,  he  pulhed  hack  her  hat, 
and  untied  her  cloak.  Her  extreme  youth,  her  beauty, 
the  neatnefs  of  her  apparel,  all  confpired  to  prepofiefs 
h!rn  in  her  favour. 

"  Had  you  not  better  fend  for  a  crnflable  :"  faiJ 
the  wretch  who  had  pretended  to  detect  her. 

"No,"  fa 'd  tli  e  officer;  "  I  do  not  think  Ihe  can  be 
guilty  ;  or  if  (he  is,  extreme  neceflity  alone  could  have 
driven  her  to  fuch  an  expedient.  How  are  you, 
ma'am  ?"  feeing  Rachel  begin  to  revive. 

She  looked  wildly  round  her,  put  hcv  hand  to  her 
head  as  though  endeavouring  to  recollect  why  or  how 
flte  came  there.  At  length  the  circnmilances  recur- 
ring to  her  memory,  Ihe  looked  ftedfiaftly  on  the  offi- 
cer, and  then  on  her  accufer. 

"Yon  have  been  robbed,  Sir,"  faid  (he,  "  and  your 
properly  found  in  my  potfeffion.  How  it  camefhfcrtj 
Heaven  knows ;  but  as  I  ftand  in  the  fight  of  Him 
who  rules  the  heavens,  I  do  prated  I  am  innocent." 

The  folemnitv  of  the  appeal,  the  conlcious  innocence 
of  her  heart,  which  beamed  from  her  eyes  and  infoim- 
ed  every  feature- of  her  face,  rendered  the  truth  of  her 
afTbrtion  indiiputablc. 

"  I  do  believe  you,"  faid  the  officer  ;  "but  even  had 
I  thought  you  guilty,  what  is  the  infignincant  valueol 

trifles,  when  p.tt  in  competition  with  the  lij 
fellow-creature,  whom  difcrefs  urges  to  actions   from 
which  the  foul  recoils." 

The 


LES    or    OLD    TIMES.          241 

The  ftorm  was  by  this  time  much  abated,  and  Ra- 
chel having  fent  agaija  to  procure  a  coach,  the  officer 
fail  he  would  not  leave  her  till  he  delivered  her  in 
fafety  to  her  friends.  He  was  (landing  at  the  entrance 
of  the  pafTage,  holding  the  hand  of  our  heroine,  when 
a  poll  chariot,  that  was  driving  haltily  through  Hol- 
•bom,  being  for  a  moment  impeded  by  a  number  of 
carts  and  carriages,  flopped  directly  oppofits  where 
they  Hood.  The  glafs  was  let  down,  and  Rachel  law 
distinctly  Haraden  AubeiTj,  feated  beftde  an  elderly 
She  alio  was  certain,  that  he  both  law  and  re- 
cognized her.  The  blood  f<  r  a  moment  forfook  h.er 
cheeks,  and  then  returned  with  impetuofity,  dying 
them  of  the  deepefl.  crimibn.  .Scarcely  was  there  time 
to  exchange  the  glance  of  recognition,  before  the 
chariot  moved  forward  again,  and  a  hackney-coach 
drawing  up  to  the  door,  fhe  Hepped  into  it,  and,  ac- 
companied by  her  protector,  drove  towards  Dart- 
mouth-ltreet. 

On  their  arrival  at  Mrs.  Webfters,  Rachel  found  the 
family  in  great  confternation  at  her  long  abfence  (for 
Polly  having  returned  without  her,  had  been  difpatch- 
ed  again  by  her  mother,  who  feared  Rachel  might 
lofe  her  way  ;  and  learning  that  (he  had  been  gone 
font':  time  from  Atkins's,  had  returned  as  quick  as  fhe 
could,  in  the  hope  of  rinding  her  fafe  at  home). 

Mils  La  Varene  welcomed  her  with  tears  of  joy, 
and  Mrs.  Wcbltcr  faid  the  was  glad  to  fee  her  fafe. 
Courtney,  (the  name  of  the  young  officer)  without 
particularly  mentioning  the  circumftances,  faid  fhe 
had  been  difagrceably  lituated,  and  he  had  been  for- 
tunate  enough  to  be  of  fcrvice  to  her.  But  Rachel 
would  explain  the  whole  ;  her  new  friend,  Mifs  La 
Varone,  fympathized  with  her,  trembled  with  terror, 
glowed  with  indignation,  or  melted  with  gratitude, 
as  the  recital  proceeded  ;  and  in  the  end,  faid  fo  many 
obliging  things  to  Lieutenant  Courtney,  that  he  began 
to  think  her  more  than  agreeable  ;  and  overlooking 
the  charms  of  our  heroine,  which  had  nothing  but  na- 
ture and  fimplicity  to  recommend  them,  he  was  povr- 
X  erfully 


242  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

erfully  attracted  by  the  artful  lures  thrown  out  by  I^i 
Varone. 

The  fituation  o(  Rachel,  in  regard  to  reputation, 
was  now  as  dangerous  as  it  was  poffible  ;  for  CfeUlt- 
ncv  claimed  the  privilege  of  vifiting  her;  and  Ar- 
chibald Oliver,  when  he  returned  from  the  country, 
and  his  fitter,  called  to  deliver  the  anfwer  to  the  let- 
ter he  had  taken,  and  one  vifit  led  to  another,  tiil 
fcarcely  a  day  elapfed  without  his  palling  fome  hours 
in  her  company. 

Rachel's  intentions,  when -flic  firft  came  to  London, 
were  to  apprentice  herlelf  to  fome  perfon  who 
could  ir.ftruct  her  in  feme  laudable  employment, 
whereby  fhe  might  render  hcrfelr"  independent.  For 
in  her  opinion,  the  perfon  who  by  the  exertion  of 
any  talent,  or  the  exercife  of  induftry,  could  fupport 
thcmfelves,  was  in  every  fenfe  of  the  word  as  independ- 
ent as  they  who  inherited  wealth  or  titles  from  their 
anceftors.  But  thefe  praifeworthy  rcfojutions  were 
from  time  to  time  put  off,  and  her  attention  diverted 
to  other  objects,  till  fhe  began  to  perceive  the  fmall 
fum  of  money  flie  brought  with  her  to  London  was 
very  viiibly  diminifhed,  and  yet  no  plan  put  in  execu- 
tion, by  which  it  could  be  repleniflicd.  '  1  muft  do 
fbmething  to-morrow,'  faid  Rachel  every  night  as  fhe 
laid  her  head  on  her  pillow.  But  to-morrow  came, 
and  La  Varone  had  ever  fome  new  fchemc  of  plcafure 
to  propofe.  Juvenile  indifcretion  united  .with  curi- 
oiity,  and  a  love  of  amufement,  natural  to  youth,  led 
her  on  from  one  day  to  another,  till  the  laft  ten  pound 
note  was  broken  in  upon. 

Forbear,  ye  rigid,  ye  experienced  matrons,  to  blame 
our  heroine  ;  it  is  the  particular  bleffingof  youth  to 
be  enabled  to  enjoy  the  prefent  moment,  forgetful  of 
the  pafr,  nor  fearing  the  future.  Then  cenfure  not 
:ljofe  who  eagerly  gather  the  rofes,  unmindful  oi'  the 
briars  that  furround  them,  or  who,  delighted  with 
their  beauty  and  fragrance,  forget,  in  the  enjoyment 
of  their  fweets,the  pain  they  fuffered  in  gathering  them. 

JelTy  Oliver  had  written  to  her,  had  endeavoured 
ts  advifc  and  comfort  her;  but  Jcily  flood  in  need  of 

advice 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  243 

advice  and  comfort  herfclf;  and  oar  heroine,  though 
confcious  that  ihe  Was  not  acting  exactly  right,  could 
not  fummon  refolution  fufhxient  to  combat  inclina- 
tion ;  but  one  party  of  pleafure  fucceeded  another, 
till  lhi  almoft  loit  the  defire  of  employment,  or  the 
■■villi  for  independence. 

..<  :«..«..<-.<^J.if>'!^i»..>">-  >  >•• 

Ch  a  P.      IX. 
Vaiitty — Court/hip — Elopement — Letter). 

WHEN  Hamden  Auberry  firft  faw  Rachel  at 
the  entrance  of  the  parage  in  Holborn,  he 
hardly  could  truft  his  fenfes  ;  bat  on  letting  down  the 
glafs  and  looking  intently,  he  perceived  it  was  no  illu- 
iion,  but  in  reality  the  woman  whom  he  had  thought 
the  mod  faultlefs,  the  mod  perfect  of  her  lex.  His 
hearf  lhuddered ;  he  dared  not  ltop  the  chariot  i:i 
which  was  his  aunt,  cr  he  would  have  immediately 
jumped  out,  and  learnt  from  her  own  lips  the  reafon 
of  her  being  in  fuch  a  place  ;  but  before  he  could  form 
any  plaufible  pretext  for  quitting  the  carriage,  it  mov- 
ed forward  again  with  rapidity,  and  looking  out  of 
the  open  window,  he  faw  her  go  into  the  hackney. 
coach,  accompanied  by  Courtney. 

If  he  at  firll  had  imagined  Rachel  had  voluntarily 
deviated  from  the  path  of  rectitude,  a  moment's  feri- 
ous  reflection  made  him  reject  the  idea  ;  and  he  began 
to  be  apprehensive  that  her  innocence  and  inexperi- 
ence might  have  betrayed  her  into  ibcicty  and  placet^ 
not  altogether  proper  for  a  woman  of  character. 

But  how  could  he  fatisfy  himfelf?  Or  ihould  lhe 
be  furrounded  with  danger,  how  could  he  difcover 
her  ?  how  advife,  or,  if  neceffity  required,  protect  her  ? 
Had  he  known  where  to  find  her,  he  would  have  ven- 
tured even  to  entreat  his  aunt  to  take  her  under  her 
protection  ;  but  he  had  not  the  lead;  clue  by  which  to 
trace  her  place  of  refidence.  He  thought  of  writing 
to  his  mother,  for  information  j  but  lady  Anne  pur- 

pofed 


244         REUBEN    asd    RACHEL;   or, 

pofed  flaying  in  London  bur  two  days,  and  it  was  im- 
poilible  to  obtain  an  anfv.cr  in  that  time.  Hov.  < 
he  did  write, mentioning  what  lie  had  Teen,  and  requeu- 
ing to  be  informed  under  whole  protection  Mils  Dud- 
ley was,  hinting  thai  he  feared  it  was  not  what  it 
ought  to  be,  or  flic  could  never  have  been  in  the  fitu- 
ation  in  which  he  faw  her. 

On  the  day  appointed,  he  accompanied  his  aunt  into 
Scotland  ;  where,  lituatcd  on  the  fertile  banks  of  the 
Clyde,  was  an  antique  family  manfion  of  lord  Mont- 
morill,  her  elder  brother.  Whilft  there,  he  received  a 
letter  fromhis  mothcr,whieh  {lightly  mentioned  that  our'1 
heroine  was  well,  and  that  the  circumitance  he  had  ob- 
fcrvj.l. proceeded  from  her  Handing  up  to  avoid  afhower. 
She  hurried  over  the  fubjcc"i  as  lightly  as  poflible  j 
for  fhe  faw  the  growing  pailion  of  Hamden,  and 
knowing  from  experience  the  implacable  tempers  of 
the  family,  wilhed  to  difeourage  hopes  which  fhe  faw 
he  entertained.,  though  againft  his  own  better  reafon. 
Rachel  hcrfelf  was  far  from  bei^g  eafy  when  flie 
thought  of  the  incident,  on  the  firfl:  night  after  feeing 
Hamden  ;  (for  fhe  feldom  was  allowed  a  moment  for 
thought,  except  in  the  hours  devoted  to  refl)  (lie  felt 
a  pleafure  in  reflecting  he  was  in  town.  "  I  can  fee 
him  now,"  laid  fhe,  "  without  incurring  the  illiberal 
reproofs  of  Tabitha." 

The  heart  of  Rachel  harboured  not  a  wifli  or  thought 
but  what  might  have  b-.en  made  public  to  the  tfRole 
world  ;  and  while  fhe  was  confeious  of  its  rectitude,  Hie 
felt  proudly  fuperior  to  the  little  prejudices  of  vulgar 
minds.  She  could  not  underlland  why  fhe  might  not 
converfe  with  or  entertain  a  friendfliip  for  perfons  cf 
an  oppofite  fex,  as  well  as  with  thofe  cf  her  own.  She 
therefore  indulged  the  hope,  that  Hamden  would  vifvt 
her  during  his  Hay  in  London  ;  but  when  day  after 
day  paffed  on,  and  he  did  not  appear,  flie  again  thought 
pride  had  prompted  the  neglect,  and  calling  all  her 
own  felf-confequence  to  her  aid,  flie  endeavoured  to- 
think  as  little  of  him  as  he  apparently  thought  of  her. 
Young  Courtney,  the  officer  who  under  fuch  fa- 
vourable circumftanccs  was  introduced  to  the  reader 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  245 

in  the  preceding  chapter,  was  die  only  fon  of  his  moth- 
er, and  (lie  was  a  widow.  He  had  two  lifters  alio, 
lovely,  innocent  and  helplefs  ;  their  father  had  been  a 
veteran  faiior,  commander  of  a  firft-rate  man  of  war, 
in  defending  which  from  the  enemy  he  loft  his  life. 
The  pcnlion  of  a  captain's  widow  at  that  period  was 
very  precarious,  and  at  the  beft  but  trifling,  to  main- 
tain three  women  who  had  been  accuftomed  to  eafe 
and  elegance. 

Courtney  gave  them  all  the  afliftancc  in  his  power, 
and  had  often  thought  he  would  never  marry  until 
his  filters  were  fettled  in  the  world  ;  and  then  if  ho 
could  meet  with  a  woman  who  could  and  would  fup- 
ply  their  place  in  attention  to  his  mother.  But  un- 
fortunately, a  few  days  acquaintance  with  Mifs  La 
Varonc,  made  him  waver  in  his  resolutions.  She 
could  aiuime  any  character  ihc  pleafed.  She  difcovercd 
that  her  perianal  charms  had  attracted  the  inexperienc- 
ed faiior.  She  wiihed  to  marry,  that  ihe  might  with 
impunity  launch  into  extravagancies,  which  at  prefent 
the  fear  of  a  jail  alone  debarred  her  from. 

La  Varone,  with  a  heart  extremely  depraved,  po£ 
f-ffed  one  virtue  in  an  eminent  degree.  She  was  what 
the  world  in  general  calls  extremely  prudent%  careful. 
to  preferve  appearances,  and  where  her  own  perfonal 
fofety  or  intercft  was  concerned,  cautious  not  to  incur 
the  fmallcft  degree  of  danger.  By  nature  fond  of 
luxury,  iliow,  and  cxpenlive  pleafures,  Ihe  had  the  art 
to  feem  frugal,  retired,  and  lludious.  She  was  fenfible 
that  at  thirty  years  old,  the  feai'on  for  conqucft  was 
paft,  and  though  lhe  did  not  own  to  more  than  five 
and  twenty,  and  by  particular  attention  to  her  com- 
plexion and  drefs,  was  not  fufpetfed  to  be  more  ;  yet 
ihe  thought  if  lhe  could  fecure  a  permanent  cftablilh- 
xnent  for  herfelf  before  old  age  and  neglect  evcrteo.k 
her,  it  would  be  the  wifeft  ftep  flie  could  poffibly  take. 

The  name  of  Courtney  was  honourable,  his  perfon 
handfome,  his  manners  agreeable,  and  his  family  un- 
exceptionable. It  was  a  conqucft  worth  feme  pains. 
La  Varone  artfully  drew  forth  his  fentirrients  in  re- 
gard to  the  woman  he  might  prefer  for  a  wife,  and 
X  2  appeared 


246        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

appeared  the  very  character  his  warm  imagination 
and  unadulterated  heart  had  conceived  as  mod  charm- 
ing. She  fpoke  of  his  mother  with  refpectful  affec- 
tion, of  his  lifters  with  all  the  fervour  of  enthufiallic 
friendship  ;  but  if  he  mentioned  her  vifiting  them  pre- 
vious to  their  marriage,  (he  contrived  to  evade  his  fo- 
licitations  ;  yet  with  fuch  modefty,  alleging  fuch  deli- 
cate motives  for  her  refufal,  that  whilft  it  oppofed  hit 
wilhes  increafed  his  love. 

Our  heroine  was  equally  with  Courtney  the  dupe 
of  La  Varone,  and  rejoiced  in  the  affection  thut  fubfift- 
cd  between  them  ;  looking  forward  to  their  union,  as 
a  period  that  would  at  once  infure  their  felicity,  and 
fecure  to  herfelf  two  fincere  friends,  in  whofe  protec- 
tion fhe  fhould  feel  herfelf  perfectly  fafe  till  die  ar- 
rival of  her  brother. 

During  this  interval  of  time,  Rachel  was  frequently 
vifited  by  Archibald  Oliver.  He  had  at  riril  beheld 
her  with  admiration,  liftened  to  her  with  delight,  and 
every  enfuing  interview  had  heightened  thole  fenfa- 
tions  to  a  degree  which  almoft  might  be  termed  ado- 
ration. But  Archibald  poflefied  not  a  doit  independ- 
ent of  his  father,  and  that  father  he  knew  was,  by  his.- 
wife's  extravagance,  nearly  ruined. 

Though  volatile  in  his  temper,  eccentric  in  his  ideas, 
and  violent  in  his  paffiens,  young  Oliver  was  fcrupu- 
loully  honourable  ;  and  he  would  have  deemed  it  the 
height  of  cruelty  to  engage  the  affections  of  a  woman 
he  could  not  with  prudence  marry,  or  to  marry  her 
when  he  could  neither  provide  for  her  fuppcrt,  or  for 
thofe  helplefs  innocents  of  which  he  might  become  the 
father.  And  fearing  to  forfeit  the  highly  valued  pi  iv- 
ilege  of  vifiting  her,  lie  confined  his  feelings  within  his 
own  bofom.  "  She  loves  me  now,"  he  would  fay, 
^  like  a  brother ;  mall  I  then,  by  claiming  more,  lofe 
even  the  affection  I  poffefs  ?  No  ;  I  will  adore  her  in 
filencc,  and  pray  that  her  felicity  may  be  complete, 
though  at  the  expenfe  of  my  own." 

One  "morning  he  entered  the  parlour  (where  La 
Varone  and  our  heroine  ufually  fat  at  work)  and  Seat- 
ing himJUf-befide  the  latter,  told  her  he  came  to  make 

her 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  247 

her  a  partaker  of  his  o\vn  uneafmefs.  "  Our  dear 
Jeffy,"  continued  he,  "  has  left  her  father's  prelection, 
nor  have  we  any  idea  whither  the  beloved  fugitive  is 
fled.  Here  is  a  note  (lie  left  for  me  ;  incloSed  is  a  let- 
ter for  you,  Mils  Dudley.  The  persecutions  the  Sweet 
girl  has  lately  undergone,  I  have  concealed  from  you, 
becaufe,  as  you  could  not  alleviate  them,  J  wiihed  net 
to  make  you  participate.  But  difguife  muft  now  be 
at  an  end.  This  was  to  have  been  her  wedding  day  ; 
but  early  in  the  morning  it  was  difcovered  ihc  was  not 
in  her  apartment.  The  confufion  this  difcovery  occa- 
iioned,  reached  me  as  I  was  preparing,  with  a  deipond- 
ing  heart,  to  accompany  the  devoted  victim  to  the  al- 
tar ;  and  as  I  was  milling  out  to  inquire  the  cauSe  (for 
my  mind  foreboded  ibmcthing  fatal)  the  girl  who  r.iu- 
ully  attended  on  Jefly,  came  into  my  dreffing-room, 
and  in  agitated  filence  put  theie  papers  into  my  hand, 
retiring  the  inflant  ihe  delivered  them.  I  haltily  tore 
my  letter  open  ;  but  it  contained,  as  yOu  will  fee,  noth- 
ing Satisfactory.  1  learnt  that  a  note  had  been  deliv- 
ered to  my  father,  and  wtlhing  equally  to  avoid  him, 
Mrs.  Oliver,  and  the  disappointed  bridegroom,  1  took 
a  coach  and  drove  direclly  here."  The  letter  to  Ar- 
chibald was  as  follows. 

To  ARCHIBALD  OLIVER,  Eft. 

WHEN  the  altar  is  decorated,  the  priefts  at  hand, 
and  the  knife  is  railed,  that  will  terminate  exigence, 
who  can  blame  the  poor  viftim  devoted  to  Sacrifice,  ii 
it  break  the  chain  by  which  it  is  held,  afferts  the  privi- 
lege of  nature,  and,  bounding  over  the  plain,  Jesuits 
at  once  both  life  and  liberty  ?  Brother,  beloved  broth- 
er, they  have  prepared  the  altar,  but  the  dellined  vic- 
tim will  cfcape  their  fnares. 

Deliver  the  inclofed  to  the  friend  of  my  foul,  Rachel 
Dudley  ;  if  ihe  contemn  me,  1  will  return  a  voluntary 
Sacrifice.  For  ib  pure  is  her  mind,  fo  unprep; 
her  opinions,  Snaring  So  far  above  the  common  herd, 
that  I  would  abide  by  her  dcciilon  even  in  a  caufe  ot 
life  and  death. 

Deareft 


2+3         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Dc:ircft  Archibald,  though  I  am  driven  to  the 
dreadful  alternative  of  marrying  ihe  man  I  defpife,  or 
quitting  the  paternal  roof,  do  not  yon  forfake  onr  fath- 
er. 1  lolicit,  I  conjure  you,  my  brother,  in  the  name 
of  oar  tainted  mother,  foriake  not  our  only  remaining 
p  irent.  I  fear  he  will  foon,  very  loon,  iland  in  need, 
of  u  comforter.  1  will  he  conflant  in  my  inquiries 
concerning  his  welfares  and  whenever  1  find  my  pref- 
cr.ee  ncceilary  to  his  peace  or  comfort,  I  will  appear. 
Any  thing  hut  truth  I  would  have  facrificed  for  hi  i 
fake.  Could  you  lee  my  heart  at  this  moment,  you 
would  pity  the  anguiih  1  feel  in  bidding  you  adieu, 
perhaps  forever,    i  JESSY    OLIVER. 

Rachel  wiped  off  the  tear  this  letter  had  extorted* 
and  proceeded  to  pcrufc   the  one  addre/Ted  to  htrfelf. 

To  Mifi  DUDLEY. 

WILL  my  dear  friend  pardon  me  that  I  intrude 
myfelf  upon  her,  and  by  explaining  my  forrows,  make 
her  a  party  in  my  concerns  ?  I  '  ave  fuffered  much 
perfecution,  dear  Rachel,  fmce  we  parted  ;  and  to 
avoid  rufhing  at  once  into  guilt  and  mifery,  I  have 
taken  a  itcp  for  which  the  world  will  cenfure  me.  But 
what  is  the  world  to  me  ?  Had  I  voluntarily  a/Tirmed 
the  lplendid  ihacklcs  prepared  for  me,  had  1  become  a 
titled  wretch,  and  promiied  faith  and  truth  to  one 
man,  whilft  every  wilh,  every  tender  thought  of  my 
heart  was  devoted  to  another,  would  the  approving 
fmiles  of  that  misjudging  world,  the  adulation  it  is  ever 
ready  to  pay  to  fplcndor  and  nobility,  have  cempen- 
fatcd  for  the  facri'nee  I  Ihould  have  made  of  internal- 
peace,  of  confeious  integrity  ?  No — Admired,  court- 
ed, envied,  I  mould  Hill  have  been  miferable..  The- 
bafenefs  of  my  conduct  would  be  my  daily  reproach  ; 
I  Ihould  have  fought  to  banilh  reflection  by  ditlipation, 
and  who  can  tell  where  the  career  of  guilt  and  folly 
might  have  flopped  ? 

I  have  endured  both  ftern  commands  ar.d  feft  cn- 
treatie:;  ;  I  have  been  foothed  and  threatened  alter- 
nately.    That  I  might  with  more  fecurity  follow  the 

plan 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  24^ 

plan  ]  had  previoufly  adopted  for  my  future  conduct, 
I  pretended  (Heaven  pardon  the  deceit)  to  accept  die 
hu/band  my  diffolute  and  ambitious  mother-in-law  had 
provided  for  me,  and  to-morrow  morning  1  am  ex- 
pected to  put  on  the  Hymeneal  yoke,  and  become  a. 
conntefs.  But  before  the  appointed  hour  arrives,  I 
lliall  be  far,  far  out  of  the  reach  of  thefc  tyranny.  Let 
not  my  ftveet  friend,  whofe  bofom  is  the  facred  temple 
of  purity,  fear  that  I  ihall  forget  what  is  due  to  my. 
fell.  That  I  am  itrongly  attached  to  a  worthy  J  outh, 
I  fcniple  not  to  confess  ;  but  he  is  a  ftranger  to  my 
paffion,  and  in  all  human  probability  will  ever  remain 
lb  ;  for  never  will  Jeffy  Oliver  offer  herfelf  unfolicitcd 
to  the  acceptance  of  any  man.  My  affeftiens  arc  pure 
as  they  are  ardent;  but  tiie  name  of  the  object  or'  them 
fhall  never  pafs  my  lips,  or  efcape  my  pen.  I  fly  from 
pruTered  wealth  and-  grandeur,  to  o'uicurity  ;  even 
from  you,  my  dear  kachel,  I  will  feerode  myfelf. 
Were  1  hippy  or  afHucnt,  you  mould  be  my  ehofen 
companion,  the  partner  of  my  heart.  But  1  am  the 
reverie,  and  will  laffcr  alone.  If  you  will  condctcend 
to  receive  and  anfwer  the  letters  of  a  fugitive,  I  have 
formed  a  plan  by  which  we  may  regularly  correlpond ; 
but  do  not  flatter  yojirfelf  that  by  that  means  you  can 
truce  me  ;  nor  do  not,  I  entreat  you,  fuller  my  brother 
to  know  the  means  by  which  my  letters  are  conveyed. 
And  now,  my  deareit  Rachel,  adieu  !  Fear  not  for 
me.  I  will  never  dishonour  the  name  of  my  father, 
or  forget  the  virtue  of  my  fainted  mother.  Perhaps 
■(my  heart  links  at  the  idea,  but  perhaps)  I  (hail  never 
fee  \ou  again.      If  fo,  may  II  -ver  its  choicest 

blefiings  on  you,  and  intpire  net  with  patience  and  for- 
titude to  fubmit,  without  repining,  to  an  affliction 
which  would  lacerate  the  heart  of 

JE3SY  OLIVER. 

When  Rachel  had  finifhed  this  letter,  (he  imparted 
to  Archibald  as  much*  of  the  contents  as  Ihe  thought 
neceffary  ;  but  to  all  his  catreatUs-of  being  permitted 
to  pcrufe  it  (he  continued  inexorable.  She  admired 
the  resolution  of  JeflV,  and  had  fo  good  an  opinion  of 

h<r 


2$o         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Jicr  heart  and  undcrfianding,  that  fhc  felt  confident  of  ■ 
her  ilriel  adherence  to  truth  and  rectitude: 

In  all  their  pad  hours  of  friendly  confidence;  MiiV 
Oliver  had  never  fuffcred  a -fy  liable  to  efcape  her  lips' 
by  which  Rachel  could  guefs  at  licr  partiality  to  Reu- 
ben ;  and  at  the  time  when  they  were  molt  together, 
our  heroine  was  tot)  inexperienced  to  discover  the  paf- 
1'ion  of  her  friend  by  looks  and  geilures.  Perhaps, ' 
had  /he  ceivrerfcd  much  with  Jelly  after  her  own  ac- 
quaintance with  llamden  Auberry,  fhe  might  have 
been  more  clear-f:;>,!r,cd. 

Soon  after  this  tircumltancc,  young-  Oliver,  weary 
of  home,  di&ttisfisd  with  himfelf,  and  mors  than  ever 
in  love  with  Rachel,  felt  there  was  a  nccedity  for  tear- 
ing himfelf  from  her  fociety.  Befides,  he  hoped,  in 
travelling  through  the  northern  counties  of  England, 
to  be  enabled  to  learn  feme  tidings  of  his  fifter.  A 
dlftant  relation  of  his  mother's  refided  in  the  beautiful 
little  town  of  Alnwick,  in  Northumberland  ;  thither' 
he  repaired  on  a  vifit.  Its  romantic  fituation  pleafed 
him  ;  the  fociety  of  feverai  agreeable  families  in  its  ' 
vicinity  delighted  him  ;  and  if  we  add  that  a  lovely 
and  intercliing  woman,  whofc  fortune  "was  large  and 
independent,  beheld  him  with  affection,  and  ■fullered 
that  affection  to  become  manifell,  it  is  to  be  hoped  the 
fair  reader  will  not  blame  him,  if  he  lengthened  his 
flay  at  Alnwick,  and  every  day  thought  lefs  and  lefs 
of  Rachel. 

After  the  marriage  of  Lieutenant  Courtney  with 
Mils  La  Varone,  our  heroine  felt  fomewhat  difap- 
pointed  that  fiie  had  not  been  prcfled  to  accompany 
the  new  Mrs.  Courtney  into  the  country.  The  Lieu- 
tenant had,  to  be  fure,  folicited  her  company  ;  but  the 
bride  did  not,  even  by  a  iingle  monofyllablc,  fecond 
thofe  felicitations ;  i'o  Rachel  faw  them  depart,  fer- 
vently wilhed  them  hourly  increafe  of  felicity,  and 
then  fat  down  to  reflect  on  her  own  fituation  in  Lon- 
don, without  friends,  without  employment,  and  with 
only  eight;  guineas  in  her  pocket. 

«  I  have 


•TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         251 

.«I  have  done  wrong,  (('aid  ftie  mentally)  very 
wrong.  I  mud  take  more  care,  mull  endeavour  to 
.be  more  prudent  for  the  future." 

As  (he  ruminated  on  the  part,  felt.no  fatisfiaction  in 
the  prefent,  and  looked  with  fear  and  defpondency  to- 
ward the  future,  the  heard  a  ronfution  in  the  adjoining 
apartment,  and  the  voice  ci  Folly  Web  iter,  who  was 
her  favourite,  entreating  a  woman  to  have  patience, 
.who  by  her  exprefuons  and  manner  fecmed  a  total 
ftranger  to  that  virtue.  She  opened  the  door,  and 
learnt  that  Mrs.  Wcbiter  was  indebted  to  this  woman 
for  tea,  fugar,  &c.  (for  lhe  kept  a  chandler's  lhrp  in 
the  neighbourhood)  nearly  five  pounds. 

Now  rive  pounds,  to  a  pcrfon  in  abject  cireumftan- 
ces,  is  a  debt  of  as  much  confequence  as  five  thoufand 
would  be  to  one  who  keeps  high  company,  a  carriage, 
horfes,  fcrvants,  drcfies  gay,  and,  as  it  is  generally 
termed,  lives  in  ilyle  ;  nay,  perhaps,  ten  times  more. 
For  the  poor  bcin~,  who  for  the  abfolutc  neceflarics 
of  life  has  Incurred  a  fmall  debt,  may  be  dragged  by 
a  rcmorfelcfs  creditor  to  die  in  a  priibn,  unknown,  un- 
pitied  ;  while  he  who,  to  indulge  in  luxury  and  fuper- 
fluity,  had  deceived  the  expectations  of  honeft  induf- 
try,  deprived  the  laborious  mechanic  of  Ins  due,  r,r 
duped  the  unwary  tradefman,  is  fuffercd  to  proceed 
with  impunity.  Nay,  even  thofe  who  criminate  his 
conduct,  will  flatter  his  vices,  cat  at  his  table,  take 
him  by  the  hand,  and  (mile  in  his  fjicc,  whilft  in  their 
hearts  they  laugh  at  his  abfurdity,  pity  his  weaknefs, 
or  condemn  his  depravity.  Not  but  there  arc  thofe, 
who,  difcriminating  between  the  embarraliments  of 
ncceility,  and  thofij  of  wilful  extravagance,  pitr  the 
one  and  defpi.e  and  execrate  the  other.  Yes,  there  arc  in 
this  world  hearts  to  commiierate  misfortune, whilft  they 
dictate  to  the  tongue  comfort,  and  to  the  hands  relief 
to  the  fufferer.  And  thole  chofen,  thofe  fuperlatively 
happy  few,  mult   furely  be  the  favourites  of  Heaven. 

For  the  blcfling  they  delight  to  confer  on  others,  will 
.return  a  thoufand-fold  into  their  own  boforhs. 

But  I  digrefs.      To    return    to    Mrs.  Wcbiter  :   She 

could  not  pay  the  demand,  and  was   threatened  with 

the 


252         REUBEN   and    RACHEL;  oa, 

the  law.  Rachel  had  but  eight  guineas  ;  but  (lie 
could  pay  this  demand  and  have  three  left.  She  (ray- 
ed not  to  inquire  what  was  prudent;  the  felt  what 
would  be  humane.  She  followed  the  heavenly  pre- 
cept of  "  doing  as  fhe  would  be  done  by  ;M  fhe  paid 
the  money. 

The  heart  of  Mrs.  Wehfter  dilated  with  gratitude  ; 
and  ihc  pain  Rachel  had  endured  from  the  departure 
and  coldnefsof  Mrs.  Courtney,  was  forgot  in  the  trans- 
port of  th  J  prefent  moment;  fo  true  is  it,  that  real 
happincis  muft  be  the  refult  of  the  knowledge  and 
practice  of  virtue. 

Mr.  Spriggins,  the  nephew  of  Mrs.  Wcbiter,  though 
awed  by  her  fuperior  fenfe  and  the  dignity  of  her  man- 
ner, was  an  ardent  admirer  of  our  heroine  ;  but  he  had 
never  yet  breached  a  word  that  could  lead  her  to  iul- 
pect  his  pafTion.  La  Varone,  young  Oliver,  and  Lieu- 
tenant Courtney,  had  contributed  to  impoie  hlence  on 
him,  and  keep  him  at  a  diftance.  But  now  they  were 
gone,  he  could  oifer  any  civility  to  her  without  the 
fear  o£ haying  hia  endeavours  to  pleafe  entirely  frus- 
trated, by  omcioulhefs  or  rivalry. 

The  fecoud  day  after  their  departure,  he  came,  and 
requested  the  Mils  Webfters  and  Rachel  would  ac- 
company him  to  the  play.  He  foreiaw  that  the  young 
ladies  would  not  be  permitted  to  go  without  Mils  Dud- 
ley, and  alio  that  her  good-nature  would  not  Suffer 
her  to  decline  his  invitation,  as  by  fo  doing  ihe  would 
deprive  die  juvenile  party  of  a  rational  and  (to  them) 
rare  amufement.  His  expectations  were  realized  ; 
and  at  an  early  hour  they  were  all  at  the  pit  door  of 
Drury-Lane  Theatre.  The  performance  was  a  trage- 
dy and  pantomime,  both  excellent  in  their  kind. 

Rachel,  whole  fenuhility  often  ufurped  dominion 
over  her  rational  iaculticsjbanilhing  the  milder  reign  of 
rcafon,  w:;s,  durwg  the  tragedy,  lb  entirely  abforbed 
by  the  Sufferings  of  the  hero  and  heroine, that  the  fplen- 
did  circle  that  Unrounded  her  in  the  boxes  was  totally 
unnoticed.  But  between  the  play  and  entertainment, 
(he  looked  round  on  the  glittering  throng  ;  and  in  the 
{(age-box,  converting  with  attentive   carneilnefs  with 

an 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         253 

an  elegant  and  very  young  lady*  Pne  fnv  Hamden 
A  uherry. 

Tlie  ladv  laid  her  band  on  his  fhoulder.  Rachel 
difcovered  that  her  feat  was  uncomfortable.  liam- 
den,  as  he  converfcd,  twilled  a  curl  of  her  luxuriant 
auburn  trelfcs  round  his  lingers. 

"  I  declare  I  am  out  of  patience,"  cried  Rachel. 

"  At  what,  ma'am  ?':  cried  the  officious  Mr.  'Sprig- 
gin-;. 

"  At  the  pi  .ver-,"  faid  flie  :   "  they  are  fo  Bedu  us.'' 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  Sprigging*  "they  are  to  b; 
fare  a  long  while." 

At  that  moment  Hamden  had  taken  the  hand  of 
his  fair  companion  and  prcflld  it  to  his  lips. 

"  I  cannot  endure  it  any  longer,"  cried  Rachel, 
"  the  pit  is  fo  crowded,  and  it  is  fo  hot."  Rachel 
was  not  eaftly  overcome ;  but  her  heart  was  more  at- 
tached to  Hamden  Auberry  than  (he  was  aware  of. 
'•  It  is  fo  opprcflive,1*  repeated  Ihe,  unwilling  to  ac- 
]  nowledge  even  to  herfelf  the  cattfe  of  her  uneafy  fen- 
fations.  "  I  mail  really  quit  the  houfe,"  faid  fhe, 
ng  for  breath.  And  then,  before  any  effort  could 
be  made  to  get  her  through  the  crowd,  a  hidden  null 
came  over  her  eyes,  and  ihe  fainted. 

The  young  Webfters  were  frightened,  and  Spriggins- 
was  entirely  occupied  in  fupporting  her,  fo  that  no 
method  was  taken  to  recover  her.  But  an  elderly 
'■•man,  who  fat  near  them,  obicrved  if  they  could 
I'll  her  up,  fo  that  Ihe  might  be  above  the  crowd,  it 
would  accelerate  her  return  to  life.  Accordingly,  he 
humanely  flopped  up  on  the  feat,  and  railed  her  in  his 
arms.  A  fmclling  bottle  was  now  applied,  and  fome 
lavender  rubbed  on  her  temples. 

The  buftle    this    incident  had  occafioncd  in  the  pit, 

attracted  the  notice  of  the  comply  in  the  boxes;  and 

as  the  old  gentleman  raifed  the  declining  head  of  Ra- 

rhat  (he  might  receive  the  more  benefit  from  the 

air  of  fevcral  fans,  Auberry  i'.iv:  and  knew  her.      Like 

li'-'htnhv  he  fpran«r  over  the  front  of  the  box,  and  rufh- 

1  -ongh  th-:  rt  mpi.  iv,  was  by  the  fide  CI  our  he- 

t  lire  began  to  animate  her  lips 

Y  and 


»54        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

an  J  checks  ;  ami  when  (he  opened  her  eyes,  Auherrv 
was  tlic  firft  object  that  met  them.  The  tender  folic- 
rtude  of  his  looks  and  manner,  whiift  lie  inquired  into 
the  caufe  of  her  difordcr,  contributed  to  rettore  he* 
entirely  ;  and  having  thanked  the  old  gentleman  for 
his  care,  and  made  room  for  Aubervy  to  lit  between 
herfelf  and  Polly  Wcbfter,  as  lie  held  her  hand,  and 
/yoke  to  her  of  his  mother,  Dr.  Lenient,  and  the  reft 
of  their  acquaintance  in  Lancafhire,  ihc  entirely  for- 
got both  her  indifpofition  and  its  caufe. 

Though  the  impulfe  of  the  moment  had  urged 
Hamden  Auberty^  in  direct  oppofition  to  every  rule 
of  politenefs  or  even  propriety,  to  quit  his  company 
and  (bring  into  the  pit,  when  lie  beheld  the  lifelefs 
form  of  Rachel,  yet  when  lie  now  faw  her  perfectly 
recovered,  he  remembered  the  necefiity  of  immediately 
returning  to  them,  and  apologizing  for  the  abrupt- 
nefs  of  his  conduct. 

"  1  do  not  feel  altogether  fatisfied,  my  charming 
Mifs  Dudley,"  faid  he  in  a  low  voice,  "  that  the  foci- 
cty  in  which,  perhaps,  you  are  obliged  to  mix,  is  prop- 
er or  congenial  to  your  feelings.  Who  arc  thefe  young 
women,  and  the  young  man  who  attends  them  :" 

"  I  am  not  indeed,"  faid  Rachel,  "  Utuated  exactly 
as  I  could  wifh  ;  but  I  know  not  how  to  better  mv- 
felf." 

"Where  (hall  I  call  on  you,"  faid  ILimdcn  ;  "I 
cannot  now  Hay  to  fay  all  1  think.  I  milii  return  to 
my  couiin,  lady  Lucy." 

w  Is  that  your  couiin  :"  faid  Rachel,  glancing  her 
eye  upon  the  young  lady  in  the  box. 

"  Yes ;   I  came  to  town  by  my  aunt's  defire  merely 
to  accompany  her  ;  (he  is  come  upon  a  vifit  to  a  friend 
of  her  mother's,  and  is  going  with  her  to  make  a  (hot 
tour  on  the  continent." 

"And  do  you  accompany  her  r"  faid  Rachel;  bu< 
fiie  dared  not   raife  her  eyes   to  his   face  as  ihc  mad 
the  interrogation;  for  flic   felt  that  her  own  was  Cut- 
fufed  with  a  blu(h. 

"  No  ;   I  (hall  only    r;o  with  them  as   far  us  Dover. 

forward   till    Saturday,   J  (hall 

hone 


I 


TALES    ok    OLD    TIMES.  2J5 

hope  to  pafs  a  few  delightful  hours  in  your  fociety 
previous  to  my  journey.  At  what  time  will  you  be 
at  leilure  to-morrow  morning  ?" 

"  I  am  always  at  leilure  to  fee  my  friends,"  replied 
Rachel,  with  a  fafcinating  fmile. 

Hamden's  countenance  exprefTedhis  gratitude,  and 
the  pleafure  her  franknefs  gave  him,  and  prefSng  her 
hand,  he  wifhed  her  a  good  night,  returned  to  the 
bos,  and  a  few  moments  afterwards,  the  whole  party 
in  which  he  was  engaged  left  the  theatre. 

The  remainder  of  the  performance  Was  entirely  lofl 
upon  our  heroine.  Her  perfon  was  prefect,  and  fhe 
law  the  figures  that  pafied  and  repaffed  before  her; 
but  her  mind  was  totally  abfent,  and  fhe  might  as  well 
have  ga/.ed  upon  vacancy.  She  was  diffatisned 
Uerfelf;  ihe  had  difcovcred  that  ihe  was  too  much  in- 
terfiled in  whatever  concerned  Hamdcn  Auberrj  ; 
lhe  feared  too  that  he  had  difcovered  her  weaknefs. 
Thee  reflections  entirely  employed  her  thoughts. 

When  the  performance  was  ended,  fhe  mechanically 
followed  her  party  out  of  the  houfe.  When  freed 
from  the  hurry  of  coaches  chair?,  orange-women, 
link-boys,  and  the  crowd  that  had  jult  immerged  from 
the  play-houfe,  lhe  took  hold  of  Polly's  arm,  and  in 
fdence  purfued  her  walk  home.  When  lhe  entered 
the  parlour  fhe  afked  for  a  candle,  and  would  have 
retired  to  her  chamber  ;  but  Mrs.  Webftcr  had  pre- 
pared fome  little  delicacy  for  her  fupper,  and  ihe  had 
too  much  good-nature  and  politenefs  to  rcfufe  fitting 
up  to  partake  of  it. 

The  curiofity  of  Spiiggins  and  the  two  elder  Web- 
fters  was  excited  by  the  behaviour  of  Hamden  Auber- 
ry.  They  had  talked  it  over  as  they  walked  home  to- 
gether, and  all  agreed  that  he  was  certainly  a  lover. 
The  company  he  was  with  declared  he  was  of  a  fupe- 
rior  rank  in  life  ;  but  they  had  not  been  quite  pleafcd 
that  our  heroine  had  neglected  to  introduce  them. 

"  He  is  a  monftrous  handfome  man,"  faid  Belle,  the 
fecond  daughter. 

"He  is  well  enough,"  faid  the  eldeft,  "but  he 
feems  Co  proud  and  felf-conccitcd." 

«  We'll 


-5<5        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  »a, 

We'll  joke  Mifs  Rachel  a  little  about  him  at  {upper 
t!ffi  ,''  (aid  Sp  i  iggins, 

•:  i  v.v  ndcr  w1-  i    ma  le  her  faint,"  faid  Belle. 

"  Why  lawk,  Belle  !"  replied  the  fifter,  "you  know 
fhe  has  always  lived  in  the  country,  and  fe  I  fuppofe 
the  lights,  atid  the  noife,  and  the  heat " 

Julfc  then  they  arrived  at  home,  and  in  a  few  min- 
hey  were  all  feated  round  'die  flipper  table, 
is   Dudley  has    been  vjr  ill  at    the  pla-,  mam- 
ma," faid  Polly. 

"  Y£  ,  in    :.  :,"  crbd  the  rideft,  **  (he  fainted  quite 
,  and  there  was  fuch  a   rine  gentleman  jumped 
«  lit  of  the  bo<  and  came  to  her,  I  believe  he  is  an  old 
■.intar.ee." 

"  I  beiifve  fo  too,"  faid  Belle,  laughing  ;  u  for  he 
feemed  rhonftrOtts  anxious,  and  looked  fo  happy  when 
ihe  began  to  recover." 

"Hei-innoLl  accpu  intanee,"  faid  Rachel,  at  once 
chftrefled  and  flattered  by  the  manner  in  whieh  his 
anxiety  and  affiduity  was  mentioned;  "it  was  Major 
Aubercy,  madam,w  a  !  lr<  fifing  herfelf  to  Mrs.  Web- 
fkr  ;  "  the  fon  of  oar  ref]  rcl :  J  fi ';.  nd." 

"  Indeed  !  Well,  I  have  not  icon  him  fince  he  was 
an  h  f<  .  ;  and  befides,  if  he  even  remembered  me,  1  e 
is  fo  much  amongft  it  folks,  it  would   be  be- 

neath him  to  notice  me,  or  any  of  my  family,  though 
his  mother  and  J,   when    girls,   were  juit    like  inters." 

"Ye?,  yes,"  cried  Spriggins,  whole  leli  conleiiucnce 
had  been  lowered  by  his  being  entirely  overlooked  by 
the  Major;  "yes!  when  folks  get  up  in  the  world, 
they  generally  forget  their  poor  friends.'1 

"  But  I  dare  affirm  Major  Auberry  is  not  one  of 
thofe  kind  6f  people,"  laid  Rachel  ;  "  he  intends  calling 
on  me  tomorrow,  and  I  have  no  doubt  but  he  will  re- 
joice in  being  introduced  to  Mrs.  Webfter  and  herfamily." 

"  Well,  we  (hall  fee  !"  cried  Spriggins  ;  "  but  I  am 
fure  he  is  not  overburthened  with  good  manners,  or  ha 
would  have  faid  good-night,  or  your  fervant,  or  fome 
fiich  like,  to  me,  when  he  went  away ;  for  though 
mayhap  I  am  not  fo  grand,  nor  fo  line,  nor  io  learned, 
1  thinks   I  underftands  good-breeding  as  well  as  any 

body. 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  257 

body.  And  for  the  mutter  of  that,  a  man  is  but  a 
man,  and  I  don't  fee  why  wearing  a  heed  coat,  or  be- 
ing called  Sir,  or  My  Lord,  or  Your  Grace,  makes 
one  man  a  bit  better  than  another." 

Rachel  found  that  it  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt 
defending  Hamden  againft  the  complaints  and  preju- 
dices of  Spriggins,  whofe  contracted  mind  and  very 
fmall  portion  of  underftanding,  would  not  fuffer  him 
to  comprehend  thofe  nice  dillinctions  which,  allowing 
for  the  natural  equality  of  man,  ftill  preferves  that  re- 
fpecl,  that  ncceifary  fubordination,  due  from  inferiors 
to  perfons  of  Alining  abilities,  liberal  education,  and 
fuperior  underftanding  ;  and  the  ignorant,  felf  opin- 
ionated being  who  prates  of  equality,  never  once  con- 
ceives the  caufe  of  the  diftiniftion,  which  education 
(more  than  any  other  caufe)  makes  between  man  and 
man.  Perfons  of  large  fortunes  are  enabled  to  enjoy 
the  benefits  of  inrtruclion  in  its  mod  extended  fenfe  ; 
and  they  who  have  cultivated  their  minds  with  care, 
whofe  taftes  and  manners  are  highly  poliihed,  feel 
as  great  a  repugnancj  to  the  fociety  of  the  vulgar 
ignorant,  in  whom  mean  pride,  obftinacy  and  vanity 
in  general,  combine,  as  the  pure  and  uncontaminated 
mind  would  feel  in  being  forced  into  an  intercourle 
with  the  vicious.  But  Rachel  knew  thefe  arguments, 
if  advanced,  would  have  no  effect  on  Spriggins;  flie 
therefore  liftcned  in  filence  to  the  end  of  his  harangue, 
then  wiihing  them  all  a  good  night,  re'.ired  to  her 
apartment. 

■•<  ■<  <  <  'idfM^ii  1  1  1  1 

CHAP.      X. 

Matters  of  Confcqtience* 

THE  next  morning  by  ten  o'clock,  Hamden  Au- 
b  :rry  was  in  Dartmouth-ftreet.  He  was  intro- 
duced to  Mrs.  Webfter  and  her  daughters  ;  to  the  for- 
mer, as  the  friend  of  his  mother,  he  was  uncommonly 
relpeclful,  and  he  fpoke  to  the  girls  with  fuch  free- 
dom, politcnefs  and  affability,  that  when  they  vent 
Y  2  into 


35S         REUBEN    and    RACHEL 

into  the  adjoining  room,  Belle  declared  he  was  a  molt 
captivating  man. 

Polly  laid  the  hoped,  it"  he  was  going  to  many  dear 
Mil's  Dudley,  that  he  was  as  good  as  he  was  hand- 
tome.  For  if  he  was  a  king,  he  could  not  be  too  good 
lor  her. 

«•  Marry,"  faid  the  eldeft,  putting  up  her  lip,  "  I 
dare  lay  he  would  be  frightened  to  hear  you  lay  luch 
a  tiling.  No  !  no  !  yo.:ng  men  of  his  rank  and  faih- 
ion  don't  often  marry  poor  girls  ;  if  they  did,  I 
don't  fee  why  fbme  folks  might  net  ft  and  as  geed  a 
chance  as  others."  And  fhe  cart  a  fly  glance  at  the 
looking-glafs,  which  hung  directly  oppofitc  to  where. 
fhe  was  lining. 

Hamden,  in  this  interview  with  our  heroine,  fell  his 
admiration  increafe.  Every  circumltancc  that  had 
taken  place  during  her  refider.ee  in  London,  the  re- 
capitulated to  him,  with  an  ingenuous  freedom  that 
captivated  his  heart,  vhilit  his  reafen  applauded  the 
involuntary  tribute  of  admiration  and  reipcel,  her 
manners  and  fentiments  exacted. 

When  fhe  had  finiihed  her  artlefs  recital,  (which 
was  drawn  forth  by  his  inquiries,  not  voluntarily  ob- 
truded on  his  attention)  "  You  are,  I  fear,  improperly,, 
as  well  as  uncomfortably  lituated,"  faid  he  v.  ith  en- 
ergy. 

"  I  acknowledge  it,"  replied  Rachel,  "  but  I  muft 
bear  it  with  patience  ;  there  is  no  remedy." 

M  What  do  you  mean,  my  dear  Mil's  Dudley  ?  You 
furely  have  friends." 

"  I  dare  fay  I  have,  Sir,  many  friends ;  but  I  fliould 
be  forry  to  trefpafs  on  their  goodnefs." 

"  Is  it  pofhble  Mils  Dudley  can  imagine "     He 

was  proceeding,  but  the  flopped  him. 

"  Do  not  mifunderMand  me,  Major  Auberry  ;  i  do 
net  think  meanly  of  my  friends,  but  I  am  confeiousof 
my  own  defects ;  I  am  too  proud  to  live  in  a  Hate  of 
i'crvile  dependence." 

"  Good  heavens  !  what  do  you  mean  •" 
"Nothing  very  extraordinary.     My  brother  is  ab- 
fent }  my  late  dear  father's  agent,  I  greatly  fear,  is  dif- 

hened  j 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  259 

honed  ;  and  perhaps  I  (hall  find  it  ncccllary  to  be  in- 
duftrious,  in  order  to  continue  in  fomc  degree  reXpecV- 
able." 

She  faid  this  without  embarrafTment,  and  with  a. 
cheerful  i'mile.  She  felt  no  degradation  in  the  idea  of 
exerting  her  talents  to  procure  fupport. 

Hamden  was  filent ;  a  certain  fomc  thing  {truck  cold 
upon  his  heart.  No  wonder  ;  it  was  the  cold,  hard 
drop  that  turns  whatever  it  falls  upon  to  Hone.  Pov- 
erty has  a  mod  unaccountable  petrifying  quality  ; 
many  a  heart  has  it  rendered  impenetrable  as  adamant  ; 
many  a  bofom  has  it  incafed  in  marble,  or  enveloped 
in  ice,  fo  firmly  congealed,  that  only  the  fun  of  pros- 
perity, riding  in  full  meridian,  could  foften  or  relax 
it.  Kamden  felt  the  cold  chill  run  trembling  through 
every  nerve  ;  but  his  heart  defied  its  frigid  power,  and 
glowed  with  more  fervour.  He  faid  but  little  alter 
this  explanation,  and  foon  took  his  leave. 

On  his  return  to  his  lodgings,  he  thus  inquired  of 
himfelf.  Do  I  love  RachcLDudley  ?  Mod  aliuredly, 
beyond  all  other  women.  Does  Ihe  return  my  paffion  ? 
That  is  a  quedion  yet  to  be  determined.  If  I  might 
judge  from  the  intelligence  of  her  eyes — But  hope 
may  be  prefumpticn.  Would  I  many  her  ?  Yes,  with 
delight  and  tranfport,  if  llic  would  accept  me.  What  I 
in  defiance  of  my  aunt's  wiihes  and  injunctions  ? 

Here  was  a  moment's  paufe.  At  length  he  pro- 
ceeded in  his  queilions.  Would  I  be  willing  to  relin- 
quish all  hope  of  future  affluence,  honour,  title,  and 
devote  my  life  to  obfeurity  and  Rachel  Dudley  ?  I 
fear  not.  1  fhould  repine  at  the  advantages  I  had  re- 
linquifhed,  and  embitter  her  life  by  my  own  fruitless 
regret.  Then  is  it  honourable,  by  indirect  attentions, 
to  lead  her  to  fuppofe  flic  has  an  cxclufive  preference 
in  my  bofom,  or  to  awaken  expectations,  which  will 
end  only  in  difappointment  ?    Certainly  no. 

After  thus  clolely  interrogating  his  own  heart,  Ham- 
den determined  to  avoid  viliting  Rachel  again  ;  but 
on  the  morning  following,  he  received  a  letter  from  his 
mother ;  it  would  be  but  kind  to  call  and  let  Mifs  Dudley 
know  her  friend  Dr.  Lenient  was  well,  and  that  Tabitha 

Hoi 


2So         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;   or, 

Holdfafl  bad  taken  to  herfelf  a  help-mat*  of  one  of 
the  faithful. 

He  accordingly  vent  ;  one  vifit  produced  another. 
Prudence  on  one  fide,  and  pride  en  the  o;her,  were  for 
a  while  forgotten.  Hamden  talked  of  love,  and  Ra- 
chel liftcned  with  complacency. 

It  was  on  a  fine  evening  in  the  beginning  c.f  Septem- 
ber, as  wandering  en  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  when 
a  row  of  young  willows  drooped  their  pendent  branch* 
cs  over  the  foftly  gliding  ftream,  that  Hamden  (on 
whofc  arm  Rachel  reclined  with  the  confidence  of  ira- 
ternal  affeftion)  fpoke  of  the  happy  intercourfe  of  con- 
genial minds. 

"Dear,  charming  Rachel  !"  faid  he,  "it  feems  as 
though  out  fouls  were  formed  at  die  fame  moment, 
and  partake  (if  congenial  particles." 

"  Our  fentiments  are  certainly  much  alike  in  moft 
things,"  faid  Rachel. 

"  And  why  not  in  every  thing,"  cried  Hamden  ea- 
gerly. "  Why,  my  lovely  friend,  loving  as  we  love 
each  other,  (for  you  do  not  deny  though  you  hefitate 
to  avow  your  affection)  why  do  we  not  fanclify  that 
a  Tcction  by  the  moft  folemn  vows  ?" 

"  You  have  an  aunt,  Hamden  Auberry,"  faid  Ra- 
chel with  firmnefs,  "  and  on  her  depends  your  future 
fortune.  She  will  not  approve  of  the  untitled,  unpor- 
tloned  Rachel  for  your  wife." 

"  Do  not  name  her.  I  will  renounce  her  favour. 
T  will  henceforth  live  but  for  you." 

"  Hamden,"  faid  Rachel,  and  her  features  afTumed 
a  fcrene  folemnity  that  was  almoft  celeftial,  "  Ham- 
den, 1  have  not  exprelfed  the  feelings  of  my  foul,  be- 
caufe  !  was  fenfible  of  the  impoffibility  of  our  ever  be- 
ing united  with  the  confent  of  your  aunt  ;  and  know, 
though  you  were  dearer  to  me  than  life  itfelf,  I  will 
never  intrude  myfelf  into  a  family,  who  would  think 
themfelves  degraded  by  the  alliance.  That  I  am  an 
unconnected  being,  is  certain  ;  no  one  has  a  right  to 
fay,  Rachel,  why  doft  thou  fo  ?  But  I  have  a  heart 
that  tells  me  when  I  err.  To  the  reproaches  of  this 
trufty,  filent  mcr.itor,  1  will  never  fubject  myfelf;  to 

the 


TA 


LE3    of    OLD    TI^ES.         261 


the   contumely  and  cenfures  of  the  world  I  .im  umil* 
nerable  ;  they  too   often   misjudge  and   condezn 
innocent  unheard." 

M  Sweet,  charming  moralift,  whither  wouldil  thou 
lead  me:'"  laid  Hamdea. 

"To   happinefs,    1   hope,"    faid    Rachel   fmil 
'*  That    i   feel  my  heart  glow  with   adeem- to 
continued  ihc;   "  is  a   truth    I.vrhu   not   CO  den 5 
that  silsem  is  pure  ;  no.  reft,  nor  hopi  ot 

future  aggrandizement,    w  .i-.  me;      Von  \x(k 

rne  for  1  wife  ;  here  is  my   htiud  ;  let   us  , 
loves  in   die  hice  ot"  Heaven.     1    ,  ble  me  to  fatisfy 
my  dear  Reuben,  when  he  reran  not  dif- 

hououred  the  name  of  Dudley  ;  ai  d  fi>r  the  mdifcrim- 
inating,  curious,  idle  multi  hem  think  as  they 

may*  Happy  in  yonr  affection,  their  fmile  or  their, 
frown  v. hi  be  alike  income.; 

The  gratitude  <t  Hamden  was  manifefted  in  wild, 
eathuAaftic  exprerlkmaof  everiafth  ~.     Eut Ham- 

den's  pride  flill  predominated,  and  he  accepted  the 
title  of  huuSand  to  an  amiable  woman,  whole  virtue 
and  underftanding  would  hare  done  honour  to  a  dia- 
dem ;  yet,  fearing  to  forfeit  the  paltry  dhtinclions  of 
wealth  arid  tkle,  he  fuffered  her  to  bear  the  ignominy 
of  lUfpicion,  and  the  bitternefs  of  reproach,  from  thoic 
who  neither  comprehended  or  could  enimate  her  merit. 

They  were  married  in  St.  John's  Church,  Weftmin- 
fter;  and  Rachel  removed  to  a  lodging  provided  for 
h.-r  by  her  huihand  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Mary-le- 
bo:;e. 

When  ftadhel  propofed  removing  fr<  m  Mrs,  Web- 
fter's,  ihe  round  no  imail  difficulty  in  fatisfying  her  in- 
quiries refpecling  the  caufe  of  her  removal.  She  had 
imprudently  acquainted  Mrs.  W/ebfterwith  the  dimin- 
Ifhed  (hate  of  her  finances;  when  therefove  on 
morning  of  her  marriage,  which  took  place  a  little 
after  eight  o'clock  ;  for  Rachel,  though  ilie  had  now 
been  foir.e  months  in  London,  continued  the  health- 
giving  cuftom  of  early  riling,  and  frequently  v. 
before  breakfaft,  fo  that  it  was  nothing  extraordinary 
lor  her  to  be  abroad  fo  early  ;  when,   in   confequencc 

4>f 


REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

of  this  union,  foe  prepared  to  quit  her  lodging,  and" 
.'■Irs.  \Y*ebftcr  a  bank  bill  for  forty  pounds,  re- 
queuing her  to  get  it  changed,  the  old  lady  looked  at 
her  .with  a  fcrutmizing  eye ;  and  though  not  apt  to 
make  remarks,  could  not  avoid  (peaking  to  our  hero- 
ine in  the  following  words  :< 

"  It  is  no  buiiaefs  of" mine,  to  be  fure,  Mifs  Dudley  ;' 
but  I  am  afraid  you  are  going  to  do  a  very  impru- 
dent thing.  To  your  family  and  connexions  I  am  a 
total  ftranger  ;  but  for  the  fake  of  my  friend,  Mrs. 
Auberry,  1  could  wifh  you  had  conducted  yourlelf  with- 
in ore  c  ire  urn/peel  ion." 

"  h\  what,  madam  ?"  faid  Rachel  indignantly, 
"have  I  tranigreifed  the  laws  of  prudence  V 

"  You  have  received  the  vifits  of  fcveral  young  men. 
Mr.  Oliver,  I  concluded,  was  your  lover  for  fume 
time  ;  but  after  viiiting,  taking  you  on  parties  of  pleaf- 
ure,  and  being  as  attentive  as  man  could  be,  whiik  he 
gees  off  into  the  country,  and  there's  an  end  cf  die 
matter." 

Rachel  could  not  help  fowling  as  flic  replied — "  Mr. 
Oliver,  I  believe,  madam,  never  thought  of  me  in  any 
other  light  than  as  a  friend.  I  am  lo  happy  as  to  be 
efleeined  by  his  fider,  and  for  her  fake  he  (hewed  me, 
whillt  he  flayed  in  town,  more  than  common  refpect." 

"  Well,  it  may  befo  ;  but  it  had  a  very  odd  appear- 
ance though.  Then  came  Mr.  Courtney.  1  made 
quite  certain  that  he  would  be  the  happy  man,  when, 
behold  !  initcad  of  you,  he  marries  Mil's  La  Varone. 
To  be  certain,  fhe  was  a  clever  fort  of  a  body  ;  but 
then  one  would  have  thought  a  young  man  would 
not  be  at  a  lofs  to  choofe  between  you  and  her." 

"  Well,  you  find  he  was  not  at  a  lofs,"  anfwered' 
Rachel  rather  petulantly. 

"  And  now,"  continued  Mrs. •  Webfler,  not  noticing 
her  reply,  "  now  here  has  been  Major  Auberry,  danc- 
ing attendance  above  a  month  pall.  lam  afraid  he 
means  no  good;  he  is,  as. one  may  fay,  one  of  the 
quality  folks  ;  and  his  aunt,  lady  Anne,  would  no- 
more  agree  to  his  marrj  ing  a  poor  girl,  than  Ihc  would: 
to  his  going  to  Jerufalem,     What  then  docs  he  defign  I 

Take 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  263 

Take  care,  Mifs  Dudley,  do  not  let  him  make  you  his 
dupe.  You  are  going  from  me  ;  for  what  purpofe, 
or  into  whole  protection,  you  have  not  thought  proper 
to  tell  me  ;  however,  that  is  neither  here  nor  there. 
As  I  laid  before,  it  is  no  buiinefs  of  mine.  But  when 
■I  think,  that  not  a  fortnight  Mnce  you  ihewed  me  the 
contents  of  your  puric,  which  were  very  trifling,  and 
.declared  it  was  all  you  polfelFed  in  the  world,  and  that 
■I  now  fee  you  in  pofleilion  of  forty  pounds,  I  cannot 
:help  thinking  all  is  not  as  it  fhould  be.'' 

"  I  thank  you,  madam,  for  your  care  and  anxiety 
■  cn  my  account,"  faid  Rachel,  who  perceived,  in  Mrs. 
Webfter's  manner,  more  of  curiofity  than  real  folici- 
tude  for  her  welfare,  "  but  to  quiet  your  apprehenfionr, 
permit  me  to  allure  you,  I  lhall  be  careful  never  to 
offend  againit  virtue  and  morality.  My  conduct  may 
incur  cenfure,  but  fha.ll  never  be  criminal.  Whilft 
my  dear  brother  is  from  England,  I. hold  myfelf  ac- 
countable to  no  one  for  my  actions;  and  whilft  my 
own  heart  acquits  me  of  any  breach  of  my  duties 
either  moral  or  religious,  I  am  perfectly  indifferent  as 
to  what  opinion  the  world  in  general  may  form  con- 
cerning me." 

Thus  argued  Rachel ;  but  her  ideas  were  erroneou.<:, 
and  flic  found,  when  too  late,  it  is  not  only  neceiTary 
to  be  virtuous,  but  to  appear  ib.  Alas !  pity  it  is,  but 
the  femblance  is  often  more  reipcclcd  than  the  reality. 

"  I  fuppofe  we  lhall  ire  you  fometimes,  Mifs  Dud- 
ley ?"  faid  Mrs.  Webfter  with  a  fneer,  as  lhe  took  leave 
of  her. 

Rachel  (lightly  anfwered  in  the  aiiirmailvc,  fhook 
hands  with  her  and  Belle,  kilted  the  affectionate  little 
Polly  (who  flood  fobbing  by  the  window)  and  put  a 
guinea  into  her  hand  ;  then  ordering  her  trunk  to  be 
placed  in  a  hackney-coach  that  waited  at  the  door,  ilie 
ftepped  in,  drew  up  the  glafs,  and  a  few  moments  con- 
veyed her  to  her  new  lodgings,  where  her  husband 
was  ready  to  receive  hc:\ 

The  attachment  of  our  heroine   to  Major  Aubcrry 

was  pure  as  it  was  ardent.     Accuftomed  for,1,  infancy 

•.vine   her   affections  within  a  narrow  circle,  (lie 

would 


2  64         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

Id  have  felt  no  repugnance  to  fecludc  herfelf  from 

ber  foctety,    could    llic   have  been  certain   by  fo 

doing  to  infiire  his  eternal  love  and  fidelity.     She  had 

;  leave  of  Hamden  to  inform  Jelly  Oliver,  with 
whom  il:c  regularly  correfpanded,  of  the  change  in  her 
circumftanccs ;  but  he  forbade  her.  She  acquiefced  in 
."Ic.iec. 

It  had  never  entered  her  mind,  that  an  unknown  In- 
dividual like  herielf,  could  evcite  the  curiofity  of  her 
ours.  .She  Was  the  leafl  inquifitive  of  any  hu- 
man being.  "  Of  what  confequerice,"  (he  would  oft- 
en fa}',  "  is  the  bufinefs,  plcafures  or  puriuits  of  oth- 
ers to  me.  I  rnfrbour  no  ill  will  towards  any  ;  and 
have  I  a  right  to  forutini/c  their  actions  ?     No." 

Hamdctt  Auberry,  Mill  the  nave  of  pride,  and  fear- 
ing to  forfeit  the  favour  of  lady  Anne,  fu  fie  red  his 
wife  to  go  by  the  affumed  name  of  Dacres.  Our  he- 
roine too  was  equally  the  Have  of  the  fame  pafiion,  but 
it  was  of  a  more  laudable  kind.  He  facrificed  the 
reputation  of  a  virtuous  woman,  rather  than  rclinquiih 
the  infgniih  attt  diftrn&ion  wealth  and  power  could 
give:  and  Hie  nobly  (though  romantically)  braved 
the  cenfures  of  the  world,  to  evince  her  thorough  con- 
tempt of  both. 

.  <  .<  .<  .<  n^Ti|'  j^n  i  i  i  i 

C  H  A  P.       XL 
Acrofs    the    Atlantic, 

A  S  Variety  is  faid  to  be  the  fafcinating  charm  that 
jl\  intrances  the  fenfes,  awakens  atteq^on,  and,  dif- 
playing  her  many- coloured  wings  in  atb^uTand  differ- 
ent lights,  obfeures  from  our  view  the  fcythe  and 
glafs  of  Time,  and  fufFers  him  to  p.ifs  unheeded  by  ; 
at  her  fhrine  I  kneel,  her  aid  1  invoke.  Come,  en- 
chanting phantom,  who,  as  thou  paflefl:  momentarily, 
afl'umert  fome  new,  fomc  charming  form.  Whether 
as  pleafure,  tripping  lightly  forward,  thy  temples 
wreathed  with  rofes,  and  thy  hands  (hiking  withfport- 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         265 

ive  lay  the  dulcet  lyre  ;  or  whether,  in  the  robe  of  for- 
row  clad,  with  pale,  cold  cheek,  and  uplift,  tearful 
eye  ;  or  cheerful  induftry,  with  placid  fmile,  with  bof- 
om  tranquil,  and  with  moderate  fcrip,  ftored  with 
life's  comforts,  not  its  ,~'iperfluitics  ;  or  as  meek  pa- 
tience, bowing  with  fubmiflion  before  the  keen  blaft  of 
undeferved  calamity  ;  whatever  ihapc  thou  doft  af- 
fume,  to  me  thou  art  welcome.  Haften  then,  for 
with  thee  ever  comes  the  Mule.  Her  veftments  white 
clafped  by  a  golden  zone,  her  bulkined  leg  half  bare, 
her  auburn  treftes  floating  in  the  wind ;  her  veil, 
which  part  conceals  hei  beauteous  face,  and  part  play* 
loofely  in  the  breeze,  wrought  with  devices  ftrange 
and  rare  ;  Hiftory,  Poetry,  Fiction  and  Truth, 
blended  fo  foft  as  to  relieve  each  other  ;  ethereal 
vifion,  come  ;  1  wait  thee  here.  For  many  is  the 
painful  hour  thou  haft  foothed  ;  many  the  heart- 
ache thou  haft  lightened.  Wcarinefs  has  fled  at  thy 
approach,  and  the  ftill  hour  of  night  has  been  as  cheer- 
ful as  the  full  blaze  of  day. 

*  But,  madam,  if  you  pleafc,  we  would  prefer  a  lit- 
tle lefs  of  the  figurative,  and  a  little  more  plain  matter 

of  fea.' 

Pardon  me,  gentle  reader.  I  forgot  I  was  writing 
the  hiftory  of  Reuben  and  Rachel,  and  was  giving  you 
the  hiftory  of  my  own  feelings. 

A  pod#  fubltitutc.  ^you  lay.  I  acknowledge  the 
truth  of  the  obfiawtSn,  and  therefore  return  to  my  hero. 

After  a  pimagc  of  thirty  days,  Reuben  Dudley  ar- 
rived life  in  the  Delaware,  and  on  the  thirty-fecond 
day  after  his  departure  from  Liverpool,  landed  in  the 
city  of  Philadelphia.  He  had  with  him  feveral  letters  of, 
what  is  calMtf,  recommendation  from  merchants  in 
Liverpool?  liv'thcir  tranf-atlantic  correspondents  ;  but 
they  contained  nothing  more  than  a  general  mentioa 
of  his  family,  and  that  his  character  and  morals  had 
been  hitherto  unimpcached. 

"  I  will    not  inquire   out    the   gentlemen   to   whom 

thefe  letters  arc  directed,   till    1   ];ave   feen  my   good 

friend  Jacob  Holmes"  laid  Reuben   to  himfelf,  as  he 

walked  up  the  main  ftreet.      "  He  will,  without  doubt, 

Z  accompaay 


z66         REUBEN    ans    RACHEL;  or, 

accompany  me,  when  I  wifli  to  viilt  them.  How  glaJ 
will  he  he  to  fee  me,"  continued  he  mentally.  "  His 
natural  love  to  my  lifter  and  (elf,  his  gratitude  to  my 
father " 

At  the  remembrance  of  his  father,  Reuben's  heart 
became  full ;  and  when  he  feated  himfelf  in  the  tavern 
to  which  he  had  been  recommended,  and  began  to  re- 
flect ferioufly  upon  where  he  was,  and  that  it  was  more 
than  probable  his  father  might  have  been  in  that  very 
houfe,  in  that  very  room,  nay,  he  might  have  reded  on 
the  identical  chair  he  was  now  feated  on,  the  fulnefs 
of  his  heart  overflowed  at  his  eyes,  and  he  indulged  in 
the  effufion  without  reftraint. 

He  had  ordered  fome  fupper.  As  the  matter  of 
the  houfe  came  in  with  it,  Reuben  afked  him  if  he  had 
ever  known  one  Mr.  Dudley,  who  had  refided  in  Phil- 
adelphia between  two  and  three  years. 

The  landlord  had,  previous  to  the  queftion  being 
Hiked,  drawd  a  chair  to  the  oppolitc  f:de  of  the  table 
to  that  where  our  hero  was  feated,  and  when  he  heard 
the  interrogation,  anfwered  it  by  another. 

"  I  expect  he  is  ionic  relative  of  yours,  by  your  being 
fo  inquifitive  about  him." 

"  He  was,"  faid  Reuben  mournMly,  "  a  very  near 
and  dear  relative." 

"  So  I  expect,"  replied  the  landlord.  "  fray  where 
is  he  now  ?"  flfcP* 

"  In  heaven,"  faid  Reuben,  railing  his  ^^s,  whilft 
every  puliation  vibrated  in  exulting  confidence  of  his 
father's  worth. 

"  You  muit  net  be  too  fure  of  that,"  faid  the  land- 
lord. 

"  Had  you  known  him,  Sir,"  faid  Reuben  with  a 
firm  and  camel!  manner,  "  you  would  have  no  more 
doubt  of  his  prcfent  happinefs  than  I  have." 

"  I  did  know  hint,"  replied  the  hoft. 

"  Then  you  knew  one  of  the  beft  men  that  ever  liv- 
ed." 

"Ye.:,  he  was  good  in  the  worldly  acceptation  of 
tiie  word  ;  he  did  alms,  told  no  lies,  hated  no  one, 
I  a  J  every   man,  yea,  iv.cre  than  his  due  ;  but  all  this 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES. 

is  vanity,  filthy  rags,  unclean  veftments.     H«  was  riot 
one  of"  the  chofen  ;  he  was  in  a  loll  ftatc." 

Here  a  difpute  enfued,  in  which  Reuben  evidently 
loft  ground  with  his  antagonift  ;  lor  Reuben  argued 
with  coolnefs,  and  took  reafon  for  his  monitor  :  where- 
as his  opponent  was  wild,  enthufialtic,  and  extremely 
ignorant.  He  ha-d  adopted  fome  eccentric  ideas  in 
regard  to  religion,  and  he  ailcrtcd  that  his  opinions 
were  right,  "  becaufe  they  were,"  and  that  all  who 
did  not  think  exactly  as  he  did,  were  in  the  high  load 
to  deftruclion, for  the  lame  uhanfwefable  rcakn,  "be- 
caufe they  were." 

Before  Reuben  had  finifhed  his  (upper,  the  landlord 
left  him,  to  impart  to  his  fpoufe  all  he  had  learnt  con- 
cerning the  ftranger.  The  curiofity  of  Jael  was  not 
i'atisfied  with  this  intelligence  of  her  helpmate's. 

"  Thou  haft  learned  nothing,  Zekell,"  faid  ihe  ;  "  ) 
will  go  and  queftion  the  young  man  myfelf." 

Jael  entered  the  parlour. 

"  You  are  juft  arrived,"  faid  llie,  fitting  down  in  the 
place  her  huloand  had  juft  left. 

"Yes,  juft  landed." 

"  From  EngltaAi'V 

M  Yes."  ^' 

"What  part  ?" 

"  Liverj^ol." 

"  Liverpool  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  expect  you  have  got  fome  kinsfolks  in  the  city." 

u  Not  that  I  know  of." 

"  No  friends,  no  acquaintances  ?" 

**  Oli  yes  !     Do  you  know  Jacob  Holmes  :"" 

"  Yes,  to  be  i'ure  I  do.  Mailer  has  reafon  to  know 
him  ;  he  is  a  dire  hard  man  to  deal  with." 

"  What  bufmefs  does  he  follow  ?" 

"  Bufmefs  !  Well,  I  expect  you  don't  know  much 
about  him,  to  afk  that  queftion.  Why  Jacob  Holmes 
is  cne  of  our  grandeft  men,  for  all  he  be  a  Quaker. 
And  then  he  mflrricd  fuch  a  grand  woman  ;  why  I 
expect  lhc  had  a  matter  of  five  hundred  pounds  to  her 
fort  in." 

"  Mr. 


-a<58         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ©r, 

"  Mr.  Holmes  is  married  then  ?" 

"  What,  did  not  you  know  that  ?  Well,  I  thought 
you  were  a  bonding  fort  of  fellow,  pretending  to  know 
folks  who  you  never  faw'd." 

"  How  long   has  he   been   married  ?"  faid  Reuben. 

"  Why  I  expect  it  is  about  a  year  and  a  half  ago." 

"  So  Ion-  >" 

O 

"  Yes,  i'o  long  ;  and  madam  Holmes  has  got  a  iwect 
little  baby,  about  three  months  old." 

Reuben  panfed  a  moment,  and  then  without  reflex- 
tion  exclaimed,  "  Why  he  mud  have  married  imme- 
diately after  my  father's  departure  for  England." 

"  And  pray  what  may  be  your  name  ?"  faid  Jael, 
placing  both  her  elbows  on  the  table,  and  reding  her 
chin  on  her  hands,  whild  her  large  blue  glafs  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  face  of  our  hero  with  a  mod  un- 
meaning dare. 

"  My  name  is  Dudley,"  replied  Reuben. 

"  So  I  expected,"  faid  fhe,  and  fomething  like  low 
cunning  informed  her  broad  and  inexpredive  features. 
"  And  lb  you  are  cum'd  to  look  ater  the  fortin  firuirc 
Dudley  left  ?" 

"  Even  fo,"  replied  Reuben,  pufning  from  him  the 
plate  that  contained  his  almod  untaded  iurper.  "  How 
far  frcm  Philadelphia  docs  the  late  Mr.  Dudley's  cf- 
tate  lay,  and  which  is  my  neareft  road  to  itJ" 

"Ah,  young  man  !*'  faid  Jael,  "I  expect  you  be 
cum'd  on  a  fool's  eriant.  It  matters  not  to  you  where 
it  lies  ;  he  never  paid  for  it  ;  and  cording  to  counts 
that  we  have  heard,  the  fquire  owed  a  pretty  deal  be- 
fore he  cum'd  from  home." 

Reuben  darted.  "  Of  whom  are  you  fpcaking  ?" 
faid  he. 

"Of  fquire  Dudley." 

"  What  Dudley  ?  what  was  his   Chridian  name  ?" 

"Name!  name!  I  can't  juit  now  fay  ;  but  I  expect 
it  was  a  bible  name." 

"  Was  it  Reuben  :"  afked  our  hero  eagerly. 

"  I  do  expect  it  was,"  faid  the  woAan,  rifing  with- 
out the  lead  emotion,  and  beginning  to  remove  the 
fupper  frcm  die  table. 

«  Oh  ! 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         269 

*'  Oh  !  my  dear  father  !"  exclaimed  Reuhen,  and 
his  rcfpiration  became  fo  difficult  that  he  was  obliged 
to  walk  to  the  window  and  throw  up  the  fafh, 

Jael  replaced  the  dilh  upon  the  tabic,  avid  with  a 
look  and  manner  to  which  no  defcriptitra  can  do  juf- 
tice,  thus  addreffed  him  : — 

"  If  fquire  Dudley  was  your  father,  I  wender  how 
you  got  fafe  over  fea.  Nobody  was  furprifed  when  they 
heard  he  was  call  away  and  drownded  ;  for  he  was  as 
great  a  reprobate  as  ever  lived." 

"  Reprobate  !"  repeated  Reuben  with  vehemence, 
and  his  eyes  Halhed  refentment,  whilft  his  heart  fwell- 
cd  almoft  to  burfting. 

"  Yes,  reprobate,"  repeated  Jael,  "  and  I  expect  you 
will  find  a  pretty  many  folks  in  Philidelphy  that  will 
tell  you  as  how  here  he  corned  over  fea,  and  pretend- 
ed to  be  a  vaft  rich  man." 

"  'Tis  falfe  !"  cried  Reuben  ;  "  I  would  flake  my 
exigence  upon  his  probity.  My  father  would  have 
"fcorned  to  pretend  to  any  thing  more  than  he  could 
Bake  appear  reality." 

"  But  I  fay  he  did  though,"  faid  Jael  ;  "  giving 
away  his  interefi  as  a  body  may  fay,  felling  his  goods 
at  half-price,  that,  as  he  faid,  the  poor  might  buy  as 
well  as  the  rich.  Then  if  he  faw  a  man  that  wanted, 
he  never  inquired  whether  he  was  a  Chriftian  or  a  Pa- 
pilh,  But  lent  or  gav'd  him  what  he  axed." 

"And  a  jufl  and  beneficent  God  will  reward  him 
for  it,"  faid  Reuben,  railing  his  eyes  fervently.  "  He 
is  now,  I  truft,  reaping  the  reward  ci'  his  philanthro- 
py." 

"  It  mought  a  been  all  very  well,"  continued  Jael, 
not  noticing  the  ejaculation  of  our  hero,  "  had  he  only 
given  away  his  own  ;  but  to  deal  fo  hardly  as  he  did 
by»diat  pious  young  man,  Jacob  Holmes — Oh  !  it  was 
a  wicked  thing." 

Reuben  approached"  a  few  Preps  towards  his  hoftefs, 
and  then  flopped,  fixed  in  curioiity  and  amazement ; 
amazed  at  the  malignity  with  which  this  ignorant 
woman  endeavoured  to  afperie  the  memory  of  his 
father,  (whilll  every  fentence  till  the  laft,  mult  appear 
Z  2.  in> 


2-0       REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

in  the  eye  of  pure  religion  and  candour  as  his  high  eft" 
eulogium)  and  curious  to  know  from  what  fourcc  this 
malignity  proceeded ;  whilft  Jael,  leaning  over  the 
hack  of  the  chair  from  which  ftie  had  aril'en,  her  fea- 
tures rt ill  fixed  and  without  expreflion,  in  the  fame 
monotonous  tone  of  voice  proceeded  : — 

"  It  is  a  fcrious  thing,  young  man,  a  very  ferious 
thing,  for  one  to  be  left  gardeen  to  a  wealthy  child. 
Oh  !  it  is  a  trying  matter,  a  grand  fnare,  laid  by  Sa- 
tan, the  mighty  tempter,  the  great  deceiver.  Money 
is  the  root  and  fpring  of  all  evil ;  it  is  the  bait  the 
wicked  one  makes  ufe  of  to  draw  the  children  of  vani- 
ty aftray,  as  he  did  thy  father.  Oh  !  it  was  an  abom- 
ination for  him  to  keep  Jacob  Holmes  as  he  did,  with- 
out even  pocket  money,  whilft  he  was  throwing  away 
his  intereft  by  handfuls." 

"  I  do  not  u^derftand  you,"  faid  Reuben  ;  "  Jacob 
Holmes  was  an  orphan  child,  adopted,  brought  up 
and  educated  by  the  charity  of  my  father." 

"Ah  !  that  was  the  ftory  fquire  Dudley  told,  when 
he  firft  corned  here  ;  but  we  knows  better  things  now. 
It  was  the  money  of  the  good  Jacob  Holmes  on  which 
he  was  living  ;  for  1  expeft  if  it  had  been  his  own  he 
would  a  been  more  careful  of  it.  But  thy  father, 
young  man,  has  wronged  the  orphan  of  his  right,  and 
made  himfelf  rich  at  the  cxpenfe  of  the  Ion  of  the 
widow,  and  the  curfes  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan 
will  reft  upon  him  and  his  children." 

"  So  be  it,"  cried  Reuben  ;  "  I  fear  no  judgment 
for  my  father's  adlions.  Oh  that  I  may  be  enabled  to 
emulate  his  virtues,  to  tread  his  footfteps — But  I  feel 
I  am  to  blame  in  liftening  to  one,  whofe  aim  is  to  ca- 
lumniate the  memory  of  him  who  gave  me  being. 
What  could  he  have  dene  to  defcrve  thy  hatred,  that 
even  his  facred  duft  cannot  reft  in  peace  ?  Did  he -ever 
wrong  thee  or  thy  family  ?" 

"  No,  not  he ;  I  expect  he  was  the  means  of  my 
getting  a  matter  a  twenty  pounds  or  fo,  that  I  fhould 
a  loft  ;  but  then,  though  it  did  me  a  kindnefs,  it  did 
not  tell  much  to  hb  credit,  though   (as  matter  faid) 

we 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         271 

we  got  our  money,  and  what  matter  was  it  to  us  who 
paid  it  ?" 

"  True,"  cried  Reuben,  "  that  could  be  of  but  lit- 
tle confequence  indeed  ;  but  pray  tell  me,  how  came 
my  father  to  render  you  this  fervice  ?" 

"  Why  I  expect  it  is  fo  long  a  ftory,  you  will  be 
tired." 

"  Tell  it  as  concifely  as  poffible,"  faid  Reuben  ;  "  I 
will  anfwer  for  my  patience  ;  and  even  fhould  it  be 
more  lengthy  than  I  expect,  when  a  father's  good 
deeds  are  the  theme,  what  fon  could  be  weary  or  feel 
his  attention  Mag  ?" 

Jacl  looked  at  him,  with  mouth  and  eyes  extended. 
She  comprehended  nothing  more  than  that  he  defired 
to  hear  how  his  father  happened  to  pay  her  twenty 
pounds ;  fo,  ftill  leaning  over  the  back  of  the  chair, 
ihe  began : — 

"  I  expect  it's  a  matter  a  three  years  agone,  a  wom- 
an corned  over  in  a  ihip  from  London,  an  fhe  faid  as 
how  me  corned  ater  her  hufband.  She  was  as  pretty 
a  body,  1  expect,  as  one  mought  fee  in  a  hundred. 
Maftcr  and  I  was  juft  married,  and  got  into  this  here 
houfe.  So  (he  corned  an  wanted  to  board  with  us, 
an  ihc  had  a  baby  with  her  about  fix  months  old.  So 
fhe  had  plenty  of  money,  an  a  golden  watch,  an  a 
power  of  fine  clothes ;  fo  we  let  her  have  our  beft 
room,  an  hired  a  girl  to  wait  on  her." 

"  Plenty  of  money,  a  gold  watch,  and  fine  clothes," 
faid  Reuben  mentally,  and  he  turned  from  the  felnih 
narrator  to  hide  his  indignation  and  contempt. 

"  Well,  ater  a  while,"  lhe  continued,  "  we  found  as 
how  the  parfon  fhe  cum'd  ater  was  not  her  hufband  ; 
he  had  kept  her  company,  and  I  expect,  promifed  to 
marry  her  ;  but  he  would  neither  own  her  nor  her 
child  when  he  faw'd  her  here.  So  fhe  did  nothing  but 
cry,  and  cry,  and  kifsher  little  girl  ;  fhe  was  too  proud 
to  work,  and  fo,  when  her  money  was  fpent,  and  her 
golden  watch  fold,  fhe  faid  fhe  wifhed  to  die." 

"  Poor,  unfortunate  girl,"  faid  Reuben  in  a  tone  of 
commifcration,  "how  I  pity  her  !" 

«  Pity 


^2         REUBEM    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  Pity  her  indeed,"  faid  Jael,  "  a  creeter  !    When  I 

told  her  fhe  mought  get  a  good  living  by  going  out  to 
farvice,  flie  faid  lhe  knew  not  how  to  labour  lor  bread  ; 
them  w;xs  her  very  words,  an  fo  lhe  would  net  cat  nor 
drink,  an  ufed  to  go  night  ater  night  with  her  clothes 
on,  fitting  on  the  floor,  and  reding  her  head  on  a  chair 
or  the  window-feat.  She  at  lall  grew  fo  weak,  that 
i!i:  was  not  able  to  walk  ;  fo  I  went  and  axed  her 
what  (he  meant  by  going  on  fo ;  for  fhe  know'd  as 
how  flic  owtd  me  above  twelve  pound  ;  fo  fhe  only 
aruVered  mc,  '  fhe  meant  and  wifhed  to  die,  and  at 
once  releafe  me  and  herfelf.'  But  then  fhe  would 
hug  her  baby,  and  cry,  •  Poor  little  wretch  !  what 
will  become  of  you  ?  It  were  better  we  both  died  to- 
gether." 

Reuben's  eyes  gliflened  with  the  dew  cf  fenfibility, 
but  he  was  filent. 

"  So  at  laft  fiie  fell  into  a  confumption  ;  I  expect  it 
was  all  owing  to  her  pride  that  was  fo  humbled  and 
mortified.  So  feeing  as  how  flie  was  like  to  become  a 
trouble  to  maftcr,  I  told  her  how  flie  mud  go  about 
her  bufmefs  ;  for  I  wanted  my  room  to  let  to  feme- 
body  elfe." 

"  Did  you  tell  the  poor  dying  creature  fo  ?"  faid 
Reuben,  in  a  tone  expreffive  at  once  of  anger  and  ccm- 
miferation  ;  "  did  you  tell  her  fo  V 

"Yes,  I  did,"  faid  Jael ;  "for  you  knows  felf  pref- 
ervation  is  the  firft.  law  in  nature,  and  'tis  but  right 
one  lliould  chriften  their  own  child  firft.  So  madam 
got  up,  and  with  her  child  in  her  hand  crawled  down 
Sail's  ;  and  when  flie  got  into  the  kitchen,  fhe  fainted 
away.  So  fquire  Dudley  was  in  the  next  room,  and 
he  heard  the  buftle  in  the  kitchen,  and  came  out  to 
axe  what  was  the  matter ;  fo  when  I  told  him,  he 
threw  me  the  money  fhe  owed  me  ;  but  he  called  me 
a  very  bad  name.  Then  he  got  two  men  to  carry  the 
fick  body  to  his  own  lodging  in  an  arm  chair,  an  there 
he  had  her  tended  and  doctored  ;  but  that  did  no  good, 
for  flie  died.  An  there  he  took  the  child,  and  had  it 
put  out  to  nurfe,  though  every  body  faid  he  ought  to 

be 


TALES    or   OLD    TIMES.         273 

be  afhamed  of  himfelf  for  doing  any  thing  for  fuch  a 
fort  of  woman." 

"Oh  my  father!  my  father!"  exclaimed  Reuben, 
"'ought  not  thy  ion  to  exult  that  thy  character  was 
fuch,  that  even  the  afpcrfions  of  thy   enemies  arc  thy 

higheft  praife  ? And  where  is  the  poor  child  ?"  ad- 

dreifing  himielf  to  the  woman. 

"  Dead  ;.  for  ater  the  fquire  went  away,  Jacob 
Holmes  would  not  pay  for  its  being  nurfed  ;  and  who 
can  blame  him  ?  There  had  been  enough  of  his  inter- 
eft  wafted  already." 

"  I  tell  thee,  woman,"  faid  Reuben,  "  Jacob  Holmes 
never  had  any  property  whatever  but  what  he  enjoyed 
from  the  beneficence  of  my  father." 

"  I  expert  that  ftory  won't  do  you  much  good 
here,"  faid  Jael  ;  "  birt  howfoever,  you  axed  about  the 
child,  an  fo  as  I  was  faying,  it  went  to  the  poor -houfe, 
and  there  it  died." 

As  Jael  finifhed  this  hiftory,  me  took  the  diih  and 
plate  from  the  table,  and  left  the  room,  and  Reuben 
fhortly  after  retired  to  bed,  but  not  to  reft.  To  find 
his  father's  memory  traduced,  to  find  Jacob  Holmes 
in  actual  polleilion  of  his  eftate,  and  believed  univer- 
fally  the  lawful  owner  of  it,  was  a  ihock  he  had  never 
dreamed  of  receiving,  and  knew  not  how  to   fupport. 

As  he  had  imagined  he  ihould,  without  the  leaft  diffi- 
culty, take  immediate  poifeffion  of  the  effects  his  father 
had  left  in  Holmes's  care,  and  as  he  knew  there  mud 
be  confiderable  money  in  his  hands,  ariiing  from  the 
pie  of  merchandize  with  which  he  had  been  entrufted, 
our  hero  had  taken  but  a  very  fmall  fum  of  money 
with  him  from  England.  Indeed  his  finances  in  gen- 
eral were  in  fo  confined  a  ftate,  that  he  could  not  com- 
mand a  fum  of  any  confequence.  It  was  therefore  no 
fmall  addition  to  his  uneafy  fenfations,  that  he  was  in 
a  ft  range  land,  with  very  little  money,  and  without  a 
fingle  friend.  However,  he  determined  the  next  morn- 
ing to  vifit  Jacob  Holmes  ;  for,  ft  111  unwilling  to  be- 
lieve human  nature  could  be  guilty  of  fuch  depravity, 
or  that  a  man,  adding  diihonefty  to  ingratitude,  would 
return   the  benevolence  of  the  father  by  wronging  the 

fen, 


74         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  ok, 

ion,  he  indulged  a  feeble  hope,  that  his  reception  would 
he  better  than  from  what  he  had  heard  he  had  a  right 

e  (ped. 

After  a  reftlefs  and  pcrturbated  night,  he  arofe  with 
tlie  carlicft  dawn,  and  having  inquired  for  a  horfe,  was 
preparing  to  viiit  Jacob,  when,  as  he  went  to  the  door 
with  the  delign  of  mounting,  he  law  the  identical  per- 
i'on  he  was  going  in  feareh  of  juft  alighting.  Spite  of 
the  intelligence  he  had  received  from  Jael,  Reuben's 
heart  warmed  with  affection,  when  he  beheld  a  perfon 
who  had  been  fo  dear  to  his  father,  and  who  had  borne 
himiclf  and  lifter  in  his  arms  a  fhoui'and  times.  He 
darted  forward,  and  took  his  hand  "  Jacob,"  faid 
he,  in  a  tone  of  fraternal  tendernefs,  "  Jacob,  how  are 
you  ?" 

"  Well,  I  thank  thee,  young  man,"  replied  Jacob, 
coldly  withdrawing  his  hand,  and  ftalking  with  up- 
right formality  into  the  houfe. 

Though  chilled  by  his  frigid  manner,  Reuben  felt 
his  heart  contract,  yet  he  followed  him  into  the  parlour, 
and  laying  his  hand  upon  his  lhouldcr,  cried,  "  Don't 
you  know  me,  Jacob  ?" 

"  No,  really,  young  man,  thou  haft  greatly  the  ad- 
vantage of  me  ;  I  do  not  recollect  ever  to  have  feen 
thee  before." 

Nearly  fix  years  had  elapfed  fince  Jacob  had  left 
England,  and  a  period  of  that  length  might  naturally 
be  fuppofed  to  make  a  material  alteration  in  the  per- 
fon of  a  youth,  whom  it  had  transformed,  as  it  part, 
from  a  cheerful,  blooming  boy,  to  the  graceful,  well- 
informed  man.  But  Rill  there  was  fufficient  in  his 
manner,  voice  and  features,  to  inform  Jacob  Holmes, 
at  one  glance,  who  it  was  addreffed  him.  But  Jacob 
had  found  a  Ihort  memory  very  ufeful  on  many  occa- 
fions,  and  was  determined  to  try  its  efficacy  on  this ; 
and  therefore  boldly  averted  he  had  never,  to  his  re- 
collection, feen  Reuben  before. 

"  Look  at  rrie  again,  friend  Jacob,"  faid  our  hero, 
"yon  furclf  cannot  totally  forget  the  face  of  Reu- 
ben Dudley,  the  fon  of  vour  friend,  Mr.  Dudley,  of 
Laaeaihur." 

"I  da 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  275 

"  I  do  remember  tliee  now,"  faid  Jacob  ;  "  but  how- 
is  it,  young  man,  that  I  fee  thee  in  the  garb  of  the  chil- 
dren of  vanity  ?  thy  father  worn  it  not." 

Reuben  whs  now  itruck  by  obferving  the  very  for- 
mal and  primitive  appearance  of  Jacob.  "  I  hope  I 
am  not  the  lefs  pious,"  faid  Reuben  with  a  fmile,  "  bc- 
caufe  my  coat  is  not  cut  in  the  fame  faihion  as  thine, 
or  my  hat  quite  fo  large.  I  am  come  to  inquire  after 
my  father's  efFeds,  and  to  rcleafe  you  from  the  trou- 
ble you  have  fo  long  had,  of  attending  to  concerns 
which  may  interfere  with  vour  own  buiinefs  and  pur- 
fuits." 

"  Thou  art  welcome  to  Philadelphia,  friend  Reu- 
ben," faid  Jacob,  a/fuming  feme  fmall  degree  of  cor- 
diality ;  "  I  ihall  be  ready  to  give  an  account  of  my 
ftewardlhip  whenever  thou  ihalt  demand  it.  In  the 
mean  time,  go  home  with  me,  and  fojourn  till  thou 
canll  fuit  thyfelf  better.  I  am  going  acrols  the  river 
on  fome  little  matter  of  bufinefs ;  when  I  return,  we 
will  go  together  to  my  houfe." 

"  Ah  !"  faid  Reuben,  after  Jacob  had  left  him,  "  I 
fear  this  man  has  a  dilhonelt  heart ;  but  I  will  noi 
judge  too  haftily." 

Towards  evening,  Jacob  returned,  and  with  our 
hero  proceeded  to  the  houfe  of  Mr.  Dudley,  which 
he  now  claimed  as  his  own.  It  was  iituated  on  the 
declivity  c  £  a  hill,  that,  riling  gradually  behind  it, 
Iheltered  it  from  the  wintry  blails,  and  whole  fides 
were  covered  with  a  variegated  wood  ;  the  Spreading 
pine,  the  cedar,  the  wild  walnut,  the  hiccory,  the  birch, 
the  oak,  were  intermingled,  and  beautifully  diversified 
the  foliage,  vhilft  here  and  there  the  parfmon  tree 
difplayed  its  tempting  but  deceitful  fruit,  which,  like 
the  frivolous  plcniures  of  the  world,  are  lovely  to  the 
eye  when  viewed  at  a  diliance  ;  but  when  tailed,  dif- 
appoint  the  expectation,  and  its  harih  acidity  is  reject- 
ed with  difguft.  Here  too,  in  native  beauty,  bloonied 
the  laurellinus,  and  here  ir.numerable  wild  flowerins; 
ffmibs,  gave  richnefs  nnd  fafcination  to  the  fcene, 
whillt  the  mild  fouth-weft  brce/.e  wafted  their  delicious 
odours  to   the  fenfes,   refrefhing  and  invigorating  n*- 

tttre. 


276         REUBEN    ahd    RACHEL;  or, 

ture.  From  the  front  of  the  manfion,  the  green  banks 
Hoped  gently  to  the  margin  of  the  Schaylkill,  and  dis- 
played the  advantages  of  *  cultivation.  Here  were 
fields  of  ripened  grain  ;  here  were  paftures,  where  the 
fheep  and  cattle  rcpofed  infafety,  and  feafted  on  lux- 
uriant verdure.  To  a  mind  fo  pure,  lb  every  way 
formed  to  conceive  and  enjoy  the  beauties  cf  nature 
as  was  that  of  our  rhcro,  the  fcene  was  enchanting  ; 
he  rode  on,  wrapt  in  contemplation  and  delight.  At 
length  perceiving  the  houfe,  which  jull  peeped  from 
between  the  furrounding  trees,  lie  aiked,  "  Is  that  my 
father's  houfe  ?" 

"  That  is  my  houfe,*'  faid  Jacob. 
"And  how  far  from  hence   is- my   father's  place  ?" 
"  This  is  the  place  he  defigncd  to  purchafe." 
"  Defigncd  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  he  went  away  before  he  concluded  the 
bargain,  and  I  have  fmee  made  it  mine." 

They  had  now  reached  the  houfe,  entered  a  large 
gate  and  difmountcd,  when  Jacob,  with  affected  io- 
lemnity  and  humility,  welcomed  Reuben  to  his  home- 
ly dwelling,  and  prefentcd  him  to  his  wife  Dinah,  a 
pretty  Ouaker,  whofe  heart  was  naturally  good,  but 
whofe  underftanding  was  ifcarcely  above  mediocrity, 
and  had  been  cramped  by  prejudice,  and  whole  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  extended  not  be)  ond  her  own  im- 
mediate family  concerns.  She  loved  Jacob  finccrcly ; 
he  was  in  her  eyes  the  fir  ft  ef  human  beings  ;  and 
when  fhe  prefentcd  hcrhand  to  welcome  Reuben,  it 
was  with  an  air  of  friendly  cordiality  ;  for  he  was  the 
friend  of  her  hufband  fhe  thought,  and  as  fuch,  claimed 
the  firft  place  in  her  cfteem,  and  was  entitled  to  every 
mark  of  refpeel  and  attention.  She  was  more  than 
commonly  careful  that  her  fuppcr  fliould  be  good  in 
its  kind,  and  ferved  with  neatnefs.  A  chamber  was 
prepared  for  him  by  her  orders,  and  thither  he  retired 
at  an  early  hour,  to  reflect  on  his  own  uncomfortable 
fituation,  and  lament  the  ingratitude  and  difhoncfty  of 
Jacob  Holmes. 

CHA1 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  277 

CHAP.      XII. 
Settlement  of  Accounts — A  Campaign. 

THE  next  morning  after  breakfaft,  Reuben  re- 
quefted  to  fee  a  ltatcment  of  his  accounts,  that 
he  might  be  a  judge  of  what  he  ought  to  do  ;  but  Ja- 
cob told  him  he  expected  his  wife's  father  the  enfuing 
day,  and  as  he  had  been  confidentially  entrufted  with 
the  mutual  concerns  between  Mr.  Dudley  and  himfelf, 
he  thought  he  would  be  a  proper  perfon  to  be  prefent 
at  the  final  adjuflment  of  their  accounts. 

To  this  delay  Reuben  with  reluctance  confented, 
and  the  day  pafled  on  heavily  enough  ;  for  notwith- 
standing the  novelty,  beauty  and  variety  of  the  fur- 
rounding  objects,  his  mind  was  too  much  occupied  in 
reflections  on  his  own  forlorn  fituation,  and  from 
thence  reverted  to  the  inconveniencies  and  misfortunes 
to  which  his  beloved  fifter  might  be  fubjeel,  fhould  he 
be  detained  from  England,  and  by  the  fraud  of  Jacob 
Holmes  rendered  incapable  of  remitting  her  any  pe- 
cuniary afllftancc. 

On  the  following  morning,  Jacob's  father-in-law  ar- 
rived, and  he,  with  great  formality  bringing  out  a 
heap  of  papers,  began  to  read  over  to  our  hero  long 
accounts  of  money  paid. 

"  And  pray,"  (aid  Reuben,  "  where  is  the  account 
of  die  falesof  the  merchandize  from  whence  this  mon- 
ey arofe  ?  My  father  left  very  confiderable  property 
in  VM'ir  hands,  and  I  have  every  rea&n  to  imagine  the 
eftatc  he  purchafed  here  was  entirely  paid  for,  as  he 
drew  large  fums  from  his  agent  in  England  for  that 
pnrpofe." 

"  Thou  canft  UOt  prove  what  thou  dofl:  afiert,"  faid 
Jacob,  with  a  took  of. malignant  fatisfaction  ;  "  and  I 
believe  thou  wilt  find  it  difficult  to  difpoffefs  me  of  an 
eft  ate,  the  title  deeds  or'  which  are  all  made  out  in  my 
name  ;  and  to  prove  my  right  thereto,  I  have  the  re- 
ceipts given  to  me  for  various  fums  of  money,  paid 
by  me  at  different  times,  till  the  whole  was  paid  for." 
A  a  «  But 


278         REUBEN    and    RACHEL:   or, 

"  But  tell  me,"  faid  Reuben,  "  whofe  property 
the  money  with   which   yea   made  thefe   payments  ? 

Was  it  not  my  father's." 

Reuben  lis.ed  his  penetrating  eyes  on  the  face  i 
rob,  .is  he  made  this  interrogation,  whofe  e\c  fell  be- 
neath die  fcrutinizing  glance  ;  he  dared  not  meet  the 
itoneit  look  ;  his  cheek  turned  pale,  liis  lips  trembled, 
:'.nd  his  tongue  faltered,  as  Hooping,  with  a  pretence 
of  replacing  ionic  papers  in  a  box,  but  in  reality  to 
hide  emotions  he  could  not  fupprefs,  lie  replied,  that 
the  money  was  his  own. 

"Oh  Jacob  !"  faid  Reuben,  "  how  canft  thou  affert 
fuch  a  falfehood  ?  Does  not  thy  heart  fmite  thee  whilft 
thou  art  thus  deliberately  planning  to  rob  the  orphans 
of  their  jaft  due:"  His  heart  fwelled  ;  he  could  not 
proceed. 

Friend  Simcox,  the  father-in-law  cf  Jacob,  took  up- 
on him  to  anfwer  : 

"  It  was  thy  father,  young  man,  who  endeavoured 
to  wrong  the  orphan  of  his  juft.  due  ;  it  is  thou  haft 
occafion  to  bluih  for  his  evil  deeds.  This  worthy 
young  man  has  improved  the  trifle  of  property  Reu- 
ben Dudley  left  behind  him,  and  all  demands  againft. 
him  difcharged,  there  remains  a  fum  amounting  to 
about  fifty  or  fixty  guineas,  which  Jacob  is  ready  to 
pay  whenever  thou  malt  demand  it ;  and  I  would  ad- 
vife  thee  to  return  home  in  die  firft  Ihip  that  goes." 

A  converfation  now  enfued,  which  convinced  our 
hero  diat  he  had  little  hope  of  ever  obtaining  his  right  ; 
for  was  he  even  to  apply  to  the  law,  money  would  be 
wanting  to  profecute  his  fuit,  or  to  prove  his  right  to 
the  eftate,  which  was  called  Mount  Pleafant.  Mr. 
Dudley  had  with  him,  at  the  time  lie  was  loft,  all  the 
original  papers  neceftary  to  b£  produced,  the  dupli- 
cates of  which  were  in  the  hands  of  Jacob.  That  all 
the  papers  were  irrecoverably  loft,  Reuben  had  inform- 
ed this  unworthy  Reward  of  by  letter,  immediately  af- 
ter the  fatal  cataftrophe. 

There  was  another  circumftance,  which  militated 
much  againlt  him,  and  with  which  he  was  not  inform* 
ei  till  that  hour.     Mr.  Dudley  had  ever  placed  an  un- 
bounded 


TALES    of    OLD    TIM  *79 

bounded  confidence  in  Jacob  Holmes  ;  he  was  a.  man 
of  eafy  diipoiition,   fond  of  agriculture,  and  fu,ch  pur- 
iiiits  as  might  ultimately    tend  to  benefit    the  country 
of  which  he  was   about  to  become    an  inhabitant,  and 
to  render  his  new  purchafe  at  once  beautiful  and   ben- 
efici.il.     He  had  therefore,   after   having  fu.rveyed  the 
land,  and  had  one  conyerfation  with   the   perfon  < 
whom  he  was  about  to  purchafe  it,  entruftcd  the  whole 
management  of  the  bufinefs  to  Jacob.     The  whole  (i 
the  payment  not  having  been  made  before  he  left 
jidelphia,  he  had  never  had  the  deeds  properly  c 
led,  and  the  news  of  his  being  drowned  arriving  b 
they  were  completed,  Jacob  conceived  the  ideaoi  hav- 
ing them  filled  up  in  his  own   name.      lie  bad, 
their  firit  arrival  in  Philadelphia,  been  artfully  in 
mining  tire  reputation  of  his  benefactor,  by  rep; 
iug  himfelf  as  a  youth  of  fortune  cnlrufied  to  hia 
dianfhip  ;  and    whenever   he    made  a  payment,  1 
ways  gave  the   perfon  to  underftand   that    it  was  Ins 
own  money  that  he  was  advancing  to  ferve  his  I 
Dudley.     This  idea  having  been  artfully  propagated, 
and  univcrfally  credited,  and  Mr.  Dudley  and  himfelf 
being  equally  flrangers  in  the  place,  Jacob  found  no 
dilficulty  in  procuring  the  ellate  to  be  lectured  to  him- 
felf.    lie  found  it  much  more  difficult  to   f.lcncc  the 
admonitions  of  his  confidence.     But  die  heart  natural- 
ly ungrateful,  by  eafy  gradations   may  be   habituated 
to  admit,  and  even  approve,  every  other  vice.      Grat- 
itude is  the  foundation  and  fource  of  all  the  moral  vir- 
tues.     For  if  we  receive    the   many  great   and  good 
gifts  of  our  beneficent  Creator  without  a  grateful  fien- 
libility,    we   no   longer  love  him  ;  and   whom    we  do 
not  love,  we  become  indiiFerent,   whether  we  obey  or 
ferve. 

Jacob  flirled  the  remonftrances  of  ccnfcier.ee  ;  and 
even  when  he  law  our  hero,  could  lie  have  done  it 
without  fear  of  the  law,  would  fcarcely  have  hefitated 
to  give  him  a  quick  paffport  from  this  to  a  better 
world. 

The  accounts  adjufled  according  to  the  plan  Jacob 
had  concerted,  and  which  old  friend  Simcos  neve: 

feminized, 


i»o        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ferutinized,  becaufe  he  wifhed  not  to  be  undeceived, 
the  paltry  fum  of  fifty-fevert  guineas  was  offered  to 
our  hero,  for  which  he  was  requefted  to  give  a  gen- 
eral acquittal  of  all  demands  whatever,  on  the  perfon 
©r  property  of  Jacob  Holmes. 

When  this  money  and  this  curious  acquittal  were 
prefented  to  Reuben,  the  one  for  his  acceptance,  the 
other  for  his  fignature,  his  indignation  arofe  beyond  the 
bounds  within  which  he  had  endeavoured  to  confine 
it.  He  rofe  from  his  feat,  pufliing,  with  an  indignant 
motion,  the  proffered  .money  from  him. 

"  Add  not  infult  to  injury,"  faid  he,  "Jacob  Holmes  { 
I  would  recapitulate  who  and  what  you  are  ;  but  there 
are  feveral  forcible  reafons  that  oblige  me  to  filcnce. 
A.nd  firft — You,  Jacob,  are  not  anfwerable  for  the 
faults  of  thofe,  whofe  memories  the  grave  has  confign- 
ed  to  eternal  oblivion  ;  nor  dare  I  fpeak  of  obliga- 
tions ;  for  Well  I  know  he  who  conferred  them,  ever 
made  it  a  rule  to  fix  the  feal  of  filence  on  his  own 
good  deeds,  and  the  faults  of  his  fellow-creatures.  As 
to  taking  the  money  you  offer  and  ilgning  this  acquit- 
tal, they  are  alike  repugnant  to  my  feelings.  I  have 
no  demand  on  your  property,  Jacob  ;  I  afk  but  for  my 
own  ;  the  property  cf  my  late  dear  lather  is  mine  and 
my  filter's.  For  myfelf,  I  value  it  not.  I  am  young, 
unencumbered,  have  hands  to  labour,  or  an  arm  to 
fight,  i  cannot  want  bread.  But  my  lifter,  lovely, 
mneccnt,  unacquainted  with  the  world,  mull  lhc  be 
dependent  ?  Mull  flic  court  the  fmiles  of  that  world  ? 
Mull  flic  fubmit  to  the  contumely  of  the  haughty,  the 
flights  of  the  unfeeling,  or  the  more  humiliating  pity 
ui  affected  fenfibility,  and  in  return  procure  the  fcaivty 
means  of  bare  ex.ifl.ence  ?  No  !  I  cannot  tamely  give 
up  her  right,  however  I  might  relinquifli  my  own. 
I  do  affert,  Jacob  Holmes,  and  you,  friend  Simcox,  bear 
witnefs  to  the  affertion,  that  this  eftate,  this  houfe,  this 
land,  the  flock  and  all  appertaining  to  it,  is  the  j<m  it 
property  of  myfelf  and  After  Rachel,  inherited  from 
our  father,  Reuben  Dudley  ;  nor  will  1  relinquifli  the 
claim  whilfl  1  have  exiftence." 

He 


.      TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  281 

He  took  his  hat,  and  walked  towards  the  door  ; 
then  turning,  he  added — 

"  Jacob,  poor  as  thou  haft,  by  thy  difhonedy,  made 
me,  I  pity  thee.  Yes,  Jacob  Holmes,  I  pity  thee. 
Thou  hail  reduced  me  to  poverty,  and  thyfclf  to  mil- 
ery." 

Dinah,  Jacob's  wile,  had  overheard  the  conversa- 
tion ;  not  at  fiilt  intentionally,  but  paffing  through  the 
parlour  that  adjoined  the  room  in  which  they  were,  and 
catching  a  word  that  awakened  her  curiofity,  ftopped. 
Curiolity,  when  once  awakened,  is  hard  to  be  repelled, 
at  lead  in  women,  lay  the  oppofite  fel.  Whether  we 
are  more  troubled  with  the  inipulle  than  l  UT  Gathers, 
brothers,  or  hulbands,  I  will  rat  a<  w  diipute  ;  it  is  a 
certainty  Dinah  rlopped  to  liden  to  a  COnverfation 
which  had  powerful"! y  excited  her's.  ■ 

It  has  been  remarked,  that  Dinah's  unUerflanding 
was  not  of  the  moil  brilliant  kind;  but  flie  pOflcfled 
that  plains  natural  fenfe  which  enabled  her  to  have  a 
full  and  clear  perception  of  right  and  wrong.  Hei 
willies  were  moderate,  her  wauls  few.  She  was  equal- 
ly  a  ftranger.  to  avarice,  luxury  and  ambition.  She 
liltencd  to  the  acculaticn  of  Reuben,  and  all  that  ihe 
polfelfed  of  fcnlibility  was  awakened;  not  that  Ike 
reared  to  be  deprived  of  part  of  the  comforts  and  con- 
veniencies  ihe  at  prefent  enjoyed  ;  but  the  man  whom 
ihe  thought  the  fird  and  bed  of  all  Cod's  creatures 
had  been  accufed  of  fraud  ;  it  innocently,  her  indig- 
nation would  fall  on  his  accufer  ;  if  judly,  then  Jacob 
Holmes -was  no  longer  the  perfect  being  ihe  had  ever 
believed  him  ;  and  if  guilty  of  difhoneity,  Dinah  felt 
(he  could.no  longer  refpect  him.  Yet  Ihe  was  unwil- 
ling to  believe  aught  to  his  prejudice  ;  ihe  therefore 
approached  our  hero  as  he  left  the  apartment. 

"  Thou  mud  not  leave  us  in  anger,  Reuben  Dud- 
ley," faid  Ihe,  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm  as  lie  at- 
tempted to  pals  her  ;  "  if  Jacob  has  done  thee  wrong, 
I  dare  affirm  it  w..s  not  wilfully  ;  and  if  thou  canft 
make  it  appear,  he  will  make  thee  ample  rcditution." 
"  Do  not  detain  me,  madam,"  faid  he,  gently  free- 
ing himfelf  from  her  hold  ;  "  I  aminhaiU  to  depart ; 
A  a  z  but 


282         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

hut  I  part  not  in  difpleafurc  with  you.  God  . 
you,  and  make  you  as  happy  as  you  are  innocent." 
Then  killing  the  child,  which  ilie  held  in  her  arms,  1  : 
went  haftily  to  the  (table,  fuddled  his  horfe,  and  with- 
out any  oppofition,  mounted  and  proceeded  to  Phila- 
delphia! 

Dinah  entered  the  room  where  her  father  and  huf- 
band  were  fitting.  "  Good  Jacob,"  faid  ilie,  "  let  not 
the  young  man  leave  us  in  anger.  1  do  remember 
his  father  ;  I  have  heard  him  fpeak  of  thee  with  affec- 
tion, as  though  thou  hadft  heen  his  own  child.  I  veri- 
ly believe  he  did  love  thee,  Jacob  ;  for  his  fake,  let 
me  call  back  the  young  man." 

"  No,"  cried  Jacob,  with  a  ftern  look,  "  ftay  where 
you  are  (for  fhe  was  about  to  quit  the  room)  ;  the 
youth  has  behaved  unfeemly,  refufes  the  money  whicli 
I  have  tendered  him,  and  lays  claim  to  mv  whole  ci- 
tate." 

"  And  art  thou  fure,  quite  fure,  Jacob  Holmes," 
faid  fhe,  and  her  countenance  expreffed  fear  and  doubt, 
"  art  thou  quite  fure  that  he  has  no  lawful  claim  upon 
thy  property  ?  In  good  truth,  I  thought  he  fpeke  as 
though  he  were  affurcd  of  his  right." 

"  Dinah,"  faid  Jacob,  "thou  art  a  good  woman  ; 
thou  doft  underftand  thy  houfehold  concerns  ;  they 
are  fufficient  for  the  extent  of  thy  capacity.  I  pray 
thee,  Dinah,  trouble  not  thyfelf  with  what  is  beyond 
thy  comprehenfion.  Thou  art  a  ftranger  to  the 
world,  totally  unacquainted  with  the  arts  and  decep- 
tions with  Which  it  abounds." 

"  Verily  thou  fayeft  right,"  fhe  replied  mildly,  "  but 
as  I  could  not  a'ffert  a  falfehood  without  hefitating, 
nor  claim  what  was  the  right  of  another,  without  blufh- 
ing,  I  judged  by  the  firm  voice  and  unembarrallcd 
manner  of  the  young  man." 

u  If  thou  didft  judge  of  him  by  thyfelf,  Dinah," 
faid  her  father,  "  thou  didft  wrong." 

"  Perhaps  fo,  father  ;  I  am  fimple,  and  uninftruct- 
ed.     But  1  hope   I  am  not  equally  wrong  in  judging 
of  my  huiband's  heart  by  my  own  ;  for   I   think,   Ja- 
cob," continued  fhe,  and  file  laid  her  hand  affection- 
ately 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  283 

ately  on  his  arm,  "  I  think  I  would  rather  be  poor  and 
Iioneft,  than  rich  at  the  coll  of  another  ;  wouldft  not 
thou,  Jacob  :" 

Jacob  could  not  reply,  nor  even  lift  his  eyes  to  the 
face  of  his  wife  ;  he  rather  unkindly  fhook  off  the  hand 
f  he  had  laid  on  his  .  arm,  and  the  child  juft  then  be- 
ginning to  cry,  he  bade  her  take  away  the  noily  boy, 
for  it  diflurbed  him.  Dinah  obeyed  in  filen.ee,  re- 
paired to  a  diftant  apartment,  and  as  the  infant  drew 
from  her  bofom  life's  nouriihing  fluid,  ihe  hung  fond- 
ly over  him  and  wept. 

Our  hero  in  the  mean  time  returned  to  Philadel- 
phia. His  mind  was  haraffed,  his  fpirits  deprefled  ; 
he  endeavoured  to  compole  himfclf,  and  to  form  fomc 
plan  for  his  future  conduct ;  but,  inexperienced  as  he 
w.is,  he  wanted  a  friend  to  advile  and  direct  him. 
"To-morrow,"  faid  he,  "I  will  deliver  the  letters  1 
brought  with  me." 

Reuben  was  elegant  in  his  appearance,  though  per- 
fectly plain  in  his  drei's ;  but  there  was  an  air  of  fupc- 
i  id:  ivy,  not  pride  or  felf-confcquence  ;  it  was  that  na- 
tive dignity  Of  manner,  which  is  ever  infpired  by  ccr.- 
fcious  rectitude  of  heart  and  unimpeached  integrity. 
His  peribn  was  finking,  and  what  would  in  general  be 
termed  handfome.  It  will  naturally  be  fuppoied  he 
was  therefore  received  with  politenefs,  and  would  have 
prepo  {felled  almoft  every  one  in  his  favour,  but  that 
almoft  all  whom  he  converfed  with  were  prejudiced 
pcrfons,  who  conceived  that  Jacob  Holmes's  intereil 
had  been  much  injured  by  die  extravagance  and  folly 
of  his  father. 

From  feveral  to  whom  he  delivered  letters,  (which 
letters  were  nothing  more  than  a  Ample  annunciation 
of  his  name  and  family)  he  received  invitations  to 
their  houfes  ;  but  when  his  circumftances  began  to  be 
fufpee~tcd,  and  indeed  the  opennefs  of  his  difpofition 
led  him  rather  to  cxpofe  than  endeavour  to  conceal 
them  ;  when  it  was  difeovcred  he  wanted  friends  who 
would  be  farther  icrviceable  than  merely  giving  him 
a  dinner,  or  a  bed  for  a  few  nights  ;  he  found,  by 
their  diftant,  frigid  manner,  that  he  was  no  longer 

weh  ' 


284        REUBEN    axd    RACHEL;  erf; 

he  was  thought  an  inlruder.     His  in- 
dependent fpirit   took  ii:x-;  he   do  longer  vifited,  he 
Unit  himfelf  in  his  apartment,  lived  fparingly,  and -re- 
rent  plans  by  which  he  hoped 
to  immcrge  from  obfcurity,  and  re:v.::e  from  oblivion 
:l.e  name  of  Dudley.     He  had  applied  to  fevcral  pro- 
i  of  lha  law  i  »  give  him  advice  and  uiniluncc  for 
jcovcry  of  his  right  ;  but  his  poverty  was  kr.own 
to  bo  certain,  his  claims  were  fuppofed  very  doubtful  ; 
no  one  would  undertake  the  cauie. 

Can  any  fituatiou  be  mure  dillreffing,  than  that  of 
a  young  man,  of  brilliant  understanding,  afpiring  ge- 
nius, laudable  ambition  and  uncorrupted  heart,  thus 
J  prived  of  every  means  of  improving  his  fortune, 
or  exerting  hi->  talents,  in  foch  a  manner  as  might  at 
once  l>o  advantageous  to  himfelf  and  fociety  in-gener- 
al ?  In  a  huge  and  nouriiiiing  town,  without  a  friend, 
without  even  an  ailbciate  towards  whom  he  felt  the 
fmaUeft  degree  of  affection,  how  forlorn,  how  totally  de- 
void of  comfort  were  his  days  !  A  folitary  indi\  idual, 
who  looked  on  the  unrounding  multitude,  whom  buu- 
nefs  or  pleafure  had  drawn  together,  and  law  not  one 
with  whom  the  feelings  of  his  foul  could  claim  kin- 
dred, not  one  who  conceived  or  commifcrated  hisfuf- 
ferings,  or,  fhould  ficknefs  overtake  him,  would  feel 
interefted  for  his  recovery,  or  drop  a  tear  of  regret 
over  his  bier,  Should  it  pleafe  Heaven  to  put  a  period 
to  his  exigence. 

Deprelfed  by  his  own  fituation,  and  tortured  by  re- 
neclions  on  what  might  poihbly  be  the  diflreues  of  his 
ii  ter,  Reuben  had  not  courage  even  to  write  to  her. 
"  Why  ihould  I  torment  her,"  he  would  fay,  "by  an 
account  of  my  ill  fuccefs  ?  Why  write,  when  I  have 
not  one  comfortable  idea  to  tranfmit  ?  No,  I  will 
fnifer  her  to  fuppoie  I  am  no  more  ;  my  filence  will 
lead  her  to  imagine  1  have  paid  the  debt  of  nature. 
She  will  grieve,  but  time  will  fcothe  and  lejQ'en  her 
affliction,  which  even  at  the  ririt  will  not  be  half  fo 
poignant,  as  the  knowledge  of  my  exifting  in  a  Rate 
of  obfeurity,  without  money,  without  credit,  without 
friends  would  occafion." 

Jcfly 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  28; 

Jeffy  Oliver  to?),  would  fometimes  intrude  on  his 
thoughts  ;  but  he  endeavoured  to  banifn  hopes,  which, 
fpite  of  reafon,  would  often  arife.  "  She  is  loft  to 
me,"  he  would  fay  ;  '•  I  ihall  never  fee  her  more,  or 
fhould  I,  will  my  ruined  fortune  entitle  me  to  the  hand 
of  a  woman  of  her  rank  ?  But  Mils  Oliver  is  above 
valuing  a  man  for  the  paltry  diftinctions  of  wealth. 
Then  ought  I  not  to  repel,  with  the  utmoft  force  of 
honour,  every  felfifh  palfion  that  would  infpire  a  wifh 
to  degrade  her  by  a  union  with  my  humble  dctliny  ?" 

Thefe  were  the  hourly  reflections  of  our  hero. 
Night  came,  and  he,  cheerless  fought  the  pillow  ei 
repofe,  courting  oblivion  in  the  arms  o{  flecp.  But 
the  fomnific  power  was  deaf  to  his  felicitations  ;  or  if, 
perchance,  he  paid  a  tranfient  vifit,  fealing  his  weary 
eyes  for  a  few  hours,  Memory,  ftill  wakeful,  would 
reprefeilt  pad  fcenes,  or  fondly  paint  illuiive  prei'cnt 
joys. 

Rachel  and  Jetty  were  the  objects  of  his  dreams. 
Sometimes  he  faW  his  filter  on  the  brink  of  a  preci- 
pice, from  the  edge  of  which  a  horrid  fpectre  ftrove  to 
precipitate  her,  when,  as  ftie  fell,  Jefly  appeared  with 
arms  extended  to  catch  and  lave  her  from  plunging 
into  the  dreadial  abyl's  that  fawned  beneath.  Some- 
times his  fancy  reprefented  his  fifter  and  Mifs  Oliver 
embarked  in  a  frn.dl  and  iil-accommodated  veifel,  on  a 
tempeftnous  ocean  ;  thj  iky  lowered,  the  w. 
cd>  and  glaring  meteors  fhot  along  the  horizon  ;  the 
waves  rtfe  tremendous,  brObs  on  the  little  barque, 
and  tfie  difappeared.  Then  in  a  moment  he  law  the 
fair  form  of  Jeify  leading  his  fainting  lifter  up  the 
beach,  when,  as  they  ftrove  to  avoid  the  encroaching 
tide,  their  feet  would  flip,  and  fucceeding  waves  again 
immerfe  them  in  die  foaming  food  ;  and  then  again 
an  inftantancous  change  (for  the  virions  cf  Qtt 
wild  and  un:or,ne<5red)  would  roprtKefit  thofe  dear  ob- 
jects of  his  fondeit  folicitudc  leated  in  an  arbour  of 
etergreei.s-,  twined  round  with  myrtle  flowers  and 
rofes.  He  faw  them,  talked  to  thtm  ;  fwect  tim 
infants  fecnu-d  to  play  around  them.  Archibald  Oh- 
wr  too  was  there,  and  a  ftranger  of  noble  mien.    But 

fuddenly 


2«g      Reuben  and  racheljok, 

faddenly   fomc  n«w  terror   would  arffe  ;    lie  ftarted, 
awoke,  and  all  die  fafcinating  vificn  iiu'.     Sleep 
agitated  and  diftnrbed  afforded  nut  little  refrdliment, 
and  in  a  few  weeks  our  hero  was   but   the    (had 
his  former  felf. 

About  this  period  the  natives,  who  had  been  driven 
back  into  the  Allegany  Mountain*,  and  who  had  pitch- 
ed their  habitation,  in  different  tribes,  upon  the  fur* 
thermoil  bar,!  3  of  die  Sufquehannah,  Allegany  and 
Mohawk  rivers,  made  frequent  deicents  into  tlic  ntv. 
fettled  pans  of  live  country,  plundering,  burning  and 
deftrbyihg  with  impunity  every  European  iettlemcnt 
witliin  their  re 

In  confequence  of  the  treachery  and  rapacity  of 
thefe  lavages,  it  became  neeefiary  to  fend  a  military 
force  to  repel  them,  and  guard  the  lives  and  proper- 
ties of  the  inofFenlive  fettlers ;  and  Patrick  Gordon, 
Efq.  who  at  that  time  governed  the  colony,  prcpofed 
raifing  a  volunteer  company  for  this  fervice.  Proper 
officers  were  accordingly  appointed,  and  the  company 
increafed  daily. 

The  noife  this  occafioned  in  the  city  awakened  Res- 
ben  from  his  lethargy  of  defpondency.  The  native 
fpark  of  ambition,  which  had  fo  long  lain  dormant, 
was  fanned  to  a  flame,  and  with  the  fanguine  ardour 
everinfeparable  from  youth,  vainly  imagining  todtilrve 
was  to  infure  preferment,  he  offered  himieif  to  the 
Governor,  and  was  accepted. 

His  candour  in  fpeaking  of  himfelf  and  circum- 
ftances  ;  his  youth,  his  manners,  his  open,  uncmbar- 
ralied  air,  and  intelligent,  manly  countenance,  fpoke 
volumes  in  his  favour,  and  procured  him  the  honour- 
able appointment  of  itandard  bcaser. 

Early  in  the  fpring,  they  began  their  plan  of  ope- 
rations, and  marched  towards  the  margin  of  the  Suf- 
quehannah.  During  the  fpring  and  fummer  months, 
they  had  feveral  rencounters  with  the  Indians,  and  be- 
ing in  general  victorious,  they  had  driven  and  purfued 
them  a  farther  di fiance  into  the  country  than  they 
imagined,  and  the  weather  began  to  grow  cold  before 
they  thought   of  returning.     At  length   the   officers 

having 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  2S7 

having  unanimouily  agreed  that  it  would  be  hazard- 
otis,  as  veil  as  of  little  life,  to  purine  their  retreating 
foe  any  farther,  preparations  were  made  for  their  gain- 
ing good  quarters  before  the  inclement  feafon  fhould 
i>e  too  far  advanced.  Th.e  main  body  had  began  their 
march,  and  our  hero,  (who  was  now  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  lieutenant)  with  a  fmall  party,  was  left  to  fol- 
low the  next  morning  with  the  baggage. 

Amongtf  the  party  of  which  Reuben  was  fecond  in 
command,  was  an  Iriih  youth,  who  particularly  attach- 
ed himfelf  to  our  hero.  O'Neil  was  ignorant,  but  hon- 
efl.  Like  an  luipoUilied  diamond)  his  rut  ward  appear- 
ance was  uncouth  and  rough  ;  but  within  was  a  jewel 
of  incitimablc  price.  Simplicity,  integrity  and  hu- 
manity were  the  character: (lies  <  i  his  foul.  This  young 
man  was  fo  pointed  in  his  attentions  to  our  hero,  that 
it  could  not  pals  unnoticed.  One  day,  when  he  had 
been  voluntarily  performing  feme  little  menial  office, 
Reuben  thus  addrefled  him  : 

"  By  what  good  fortune,  O'Neil,  is  it,  that  I  am  fo 
particularly  favoured  with  your  kind  offices  r" 

"Arrah,  my  fwate  mailer,"  (aid  O'Neil,  "  by  no 
great  matter  of  good  fortune,  only  that  your  Honour 
happened  to  have  a  father." 

"  Did  you  know  my  father,  O'Neil  f" 

"  Oeh  !  and  did  you  think  I  did  not  know  him  ? 
Many  is  the  time  I  havent  fcrved  him,  to  be  fure  ;  and 
while  Pat  O'Neil  lives,  he  will  ferve  any  that  wears 
the  name  of  Dudley,  for  his  fake  ;  aye,  by  night  or  by 
day,  fair  weather  or  foul,  all's  one  for  that.  And  did 
you  think  now  I  could  ever  forget  how  he  paid  the 
money  for  that  fwate  crater,  Madam  Juliana,  and  how 
he  had  her  nuifed,  and " 

It  now  ftruck  Reuben  that  he  might,  through 
O'Neil,  learn  fome  further  intelligence  concerning  a 
circumtlancc,  which  he  had  often  thought  of  fincc  the 
information  he  leceived  from  Jael,  on  the  firft  day  of 
his  arrival  ;  for  he  naturally  fuppoled  that  the  Juliana 
he  talked  of  was  the  unfortunate  woman,  whofe  for- 
his  father  had  alleviated.  lie  put  feveral  quef- 
to  his  humble  friend,    and   gleaned   from  him  a 

talc 


288         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  cr,  ' 

t:ilc  which  cannot  be  better  related   than  in  his  own 
limple  language. 

M  It  was  in  dear  Ireland,"  faid  he,  "  about  fifteen 
miles  from  Dublin's  fwate  city,  that  my  honoured 
matter  had  a  houfe  ;  I  would  tell  you  his  name,  but 
that  I  can't,  becaufe,  you  fee,  1  promifed  Madam 
Juliana  never  to  breathe  a  fyllable  of  the  matter.  She 
was  all  the  child  he  had  ;  and  he  thought  ihe  was  too 
good  for  the  fun  to  fhine  on,  and  fo  ihe  was  ;  but  ihe 
was  not  quite  fo  good  neither,  that  is  to  fay,  ihe  might 
a  done  better  than  to  liften  to  a  fpallpeen  ot  a  lord  thnt 
was  an  Engliihman,  only  that  he  was  born  in  Dublin. 
So  he  law  her  one  day  when  ihe  was  riding  out,  and 
he  fpoke  to  her,  and  rode  home  with  her  ;  and  when 
my  mailer  law  who  he  was,  he  turned  him  out  of  the 
houfe,  and  never  aiked  him  into  it  ;  and  I  heard  him 
tell  Madam  Juliana  at  fupper-time,  that  he  was  no  bet- 
ter than  he  Ihould  be,  an  if  he  had  faid  not  half  fo 
good,  he  would  have  faid  more  in  his  favour  than  hp 
deferred.  I  was  a  boy,  pleafe  your  Honour,  then, 
and  half  a  guinea  tempted  me  to  take  a  letter  and  give 
it  to  her.  Och  !  the  remembrance  of  that  makes  my 
heart  ache  very  often  ;  for  if'  I  had  not  been  io  eafily 
perfuaded,  my  good  mafter  and  my  fwate  lady  might 
a  been  alive  and  happy  together  now.  So  flie  did  not 
mind  what  her  father  laid,  but  wrote  to  him,  and  met 
liiin  ;  and  one  evening  he  brought  a  chaile  and  four 
horfes.  It  was  after  iiinfet,  and  the  new  moon  gave 
but  little  light  ;  fo  ihe  liiid,  "  Patrick,  will  you  walk 
with  me  as  far  as  the  Mill-Bridge  V* 

"  Now  it  was  October,  and  the  wind  was  (harp.  So 
(ays  I,  '  It  is  cold,  my  lady,'  lays  I." 

"  A  little  cr  fo,"  faid  ih^,  and  her  vr  ice  feemed  to 
tremble.  "  It  is  a  little  cold,  Patrick,  but  here  is  {Some- 
thing to  keep  you  warm  ;"  fo  ihe  put  a  crown  piece 
into  my  hand.  So  we  went  out  together,  and  as  I 
opened  the  gale,  ihe  turned  and  looked  up  at  the  win- 
dows of  her  father's  ftudy  ;  for  there  was  a  big  row  of 
trces*from  the  houfe  to  the  gate,  and  his  ftudy  win- 
dows  were   right  oppofite.     So   ihe  locked  at  them, 

and 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         2S9 

and  lifted  up  her  hands  and  wrung  them,  and  I  heard 
her  fob." 

"  You  had  better  go  back,  Mifs,"  faid  I  ;  but  fhe 
made  me  no  anfwer,  only  walked  very  faft  forward  ; 
and  when  I  faw  the  lord  and  the  chaife,  my  mind  mif- 
gave  mc,  and  I  faid,  "  Och  !  Mils  July,  what  are  you 
going  to  be  after  doing  r" 

"  Do  not  be  frightened,  my  good  lad,"  faid  fhe, 
"but  go  back  and  tike  this  letter  to  my  father." 

"Go  back:"  faid  I,  "no!  no!  Pat  ONcil  does 
no  fuch  thing  ;  I  could  not  bear  to  fee  my  poor  old 
mafter  die  of  the  heart-break,  or  go  crazy  for  your 
lofs." 

"  But  you  mufl:  go  back,"  faid  the  lord. 

"  But  I  won't,"  faid  I  ;  "1  will  follow  my  rm.trefs 
to  the  end  o{  the  world,  and  farther  too  if  needs 
mult." 

"  Och  !  your  Honour,  I  cannot  tell  how  I  felt  when 
I  thought  they  were  going  away  without  me.  He 
had  lifted  my  poor  lady  in,  who  leaned  almoil  dying  ; 
fe  I  caught  hold  of  her  gown,  and  hung  upon  the 
ftep  of  the  chaife,  and  fwore  never  to  quit  my  hold  till 
my  hands  were  cut  off." 

"  Let  him  go  with  us,  poor  fellow,"  faid  my  lady. 

"  He  will  betray  us,"  faid  the  lord. 

"No,  I  will  not,"  faid  I;  "let  me  go  with  my 
miftrefs,  and  I  will  not  {peak  a  word  to  nobody  ;  but 
I  will  protect  her,  fight  for  her,  die  for  her." 

"  Get  up  behind,"  faid  he. 

"  I  fprung  up  in  a  giffey,  and  away  we  went.  Well, 
that  night  we  went  aboard  a  packet,  and  failed  away 
to  England,  and  there  a  Roman  Catholic  prieft  mar- 
ried them  ;  but  the  falfe-hearted  lord  never  meant  the 
thing  that  was  right  all  this  while  ;  for  in  a  week  or 
two  he  grew  cool,  and  at  laft  told  her  he  was  no  Cath- 
olic, and  therefore  not  her  hu'fband,  and  that  to  pro- 
vide for  her  during  her  life,  he  had  got  her  a  hufband, 
and  when  ihe  was  married,  Ihe  might  go  b.ick  to  her 
father.  So  a  captain  ufed  to  come  with  him,  and  I 
don't  know  how  tiicy  managed  ;  bat  Madam  Juliana 
was  married  to  him,  and  I  thought  the  next  day  Ihe 
B  b  would 


=  9o         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

would  have  gone  diftraifted.  She  tore  her  beautifal 
flaxen  li:iir,  and  wrung  her  hands,  and  cried  and  fob- 
bed. So  then,  in  a  little  while  kcrhulbar.d  went  aw  a  v 
over  fen,  and  then  after  Madam  lay  in,  flic  followed 
him,  and  when  flje  came  to  Philadelphia,  he  would  not 
own  her,  and  Ihe  pined  and  pined,  tiil  at  laft " 

Here  th e  voice  of  poor  O'Neil  failed.  His  honed 
heart  burft  forth  at  his  eyes. 

"  Spare  youriclf,  Patrick,"  faid  Reuben, "  for  I  think 
I  know  the  reft." 

"  Not  quite  all,  your  Honour,"  faid  Patrick  ;  "  for 
on  the  day  before  fhe  died,  your  good  father,  Heaven 
blefs  bim  for  it,  let  me  fee  her.  She  was  almoftgone, 
und  fpoke  fo  low,  I  could  fcarcc  hear  her." 

"  Patrick,"  faid  Hie,  "  I  want  to  thank  you  for  your 
Heady  attachment*  to  me.  1  would  fain  leave  you 
forhetjhing  as  a  remembrance  ;  but  I  have  nothing 
Eft  of  any  value." 

"My  dear?fwate»  angel  lady,"  faid  J,  "  you  will 
leave  me  the  remembrance  of  your  precious  felt.  I 
never  !   no,  never  !   lhail  forget  you." 

"  T  lent  for  you,"  faid  ihe,  "  to  tell  you,  Patrick, 
that,  fhould  you  ever  fee  my  father,  he  may  know  from 
you  that  I  have  been  puniihed,  juftly,  I  own,  though 
very  feverely,  for  my  difobedience  to  the  belt  of  parents. 
I  leave  my  child  an  orphan,  in  a  ftrange  land  ;  but 
my  bcnefaclor  has  promifed  to  take  care  of  it.  You, 
I  know,  will,  to  the  utmoft  of  your  power,  protect  it." 

She  fainted  before  lhe  had  imifhed  ;  they  took  me 
out  of  the  room,  and  I  never  faw  her  again.  Och  ! 
your  Honour,  fhe  is  furely  in  heaven  ;  for  to  die  heart- 
broken, and  in  poverty,  in  a  ftrange  land,  without  any 

fi  lends Do  you  not  think  fhe  is  in  heaven  ?  do  you 

not  think  her  fins  were  pardoned  ?" 

"  We  will  hope  fo,"  laid  Reuben  ;  "  but  difobedi- 
ence to  parents  is  certainly  a  deep  offence  againft  the 
commandments  of  our  Creator." 

"  But  ihe  was  very  penitent,"  faid  O'Neil.  Reuben 
was  blent. 

After  this  converfation,  there  feemed  a  kind  of  fo- 
cial  bond  foimed  between  Reuben  and  the  young  Iriih- 

man  ; 


TALES     of    OLD    TIMES.  291 

man  ;  the  latter  performing  all  the  officer,  of  a  fervarit, 
the  'Other. practicing  all  the  km&nefs  and  benevolence 

of  the  beft  of  matters.  The  autumn  nights  were  cold  ; 
O'Neil  would  watch  till  ho  faw  our  hero  in  a  {lumber. 
then,  adding  his  own  blanket  to  the  flight  covering  of 
Reuben's  bed,  he  would  wrap  himfelf  as  well  as  ha 
could  in  his  great  coat,  and  lie  down  on  the  ground 
he'ide  him. 

The  baggage  being  placed  in  order  ready  for  an 
early  march,  the  foldieis  and  officers  were  retired  to 
rcil.  O'Neil  had,  as  uiual,  thrown  his  blanket  over 
his  mafter  (as  he  delighted  to  call  him)  and  the  air 
being  more  than  ufually  iharp,  he  found  it  impoflible 
to  fleep.  He  arofe,  and  raking  together  the  dying  em- 
bers of  a  fire  by  which  they  had  drelied  their  fuppei, 
began  to  re-kindle  it.  As  he  was  thus  employed,  he 
thought  he  heard  a  milling  amongft  the  trees  ;  and 
turning  half  round,  perceived,  by  the  faint  1'ght  the 
fire  cail  around,  the  faces  of  two  Indians  peeping  hi  z:i 
behind  a  large  tree.  He  gave  aloud  cry;  the  In- 
dians uttered  the  war  whoop  ;  a  fcene  of  confufion  and 
hoiTor  enfued,  and  in  a  few  moments  part  of  the  little 
corps  weie  ilain,  the  reft  wounded  and  mack  prii 
Among  d  the  latter  was  our  hero,  and  . 
adherent,  Patrick  O'Neil. 

■  t  <  « ■< «^''{"^»  >  ••>■  >  >-• 

C  H  A  P.       XIII. 
Another   J~ijit  to  favagc  Habitations. 

THERE  had,  fome  little  time  previous  to  this 
event,  been  feveral  of  the  Indian  chiefs  taken 
prifoners  by  the  Europeans,  and  it  was  to  this  circum- 
llance  thofe,  who  were  taken  prifoners  by  the  native  :, 
owed  the  prefervation  of  their  lives,  as  the  lavages  en- 
tertained hopes  that  by  means  of  thefe  they  might 
procure  the  liberty  of  their  captured  brethren. 

Their  route  lay  acrofs  the  country,  and  before  they 
had  reached  their  place  of  deflination,  a  very  heavy 

fall 


2?2         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;    e*, 

fall  of  fnow  rendered  the  woods  almoft  impenetrable  ; 
but  the  Indians,  inured  frem  their  infancy  to  cold, 
hunger,  every  fuecies  of  hardfliip,  felt  little  or  no  in- 
convenience from  the  f;.  verity  of  the  feafon,  whillt  tlic 
Europeans  funk  under  their  accumulated  fufferings  ; 
and  of  twelve  who  were  taken  prifoners,  (even  died  by 
the  way, 

Reuben  had  been  Qightly  wounded,  and  O'Ncil  had 
received  a  fcratch,  as  he  called  it,  in  endeavouring  to 
prefcrve  his  mafter,  from  the  tomahawk  of  an  Indiar. 
But  Reuben  Mas  by  nature  intrepid,  and  O'Ncil  was 
callous  to  every  calamity  that  affected  only  himfelf. 
They  mutually  comforted  and  fupported  each  oilier, 
and  were  amongft  the  few  who  furvived  at  the  end  ot 
their  wcariibmc,  pedeftrian  journey. 

The  morning  after  their  arrival  at  the  Indian  fettle- 
ment,  the  rive  furviving  captives  were  prefented  to  the 
fachem,  Wampoogohoon.  His  wigwam  was  larger 
anil  more  commodious  than  thole  of  his  fubjecls.  It 
was  well  lined  with  fkins  of  various  wild  beafts,  and 
oh  a  kind  of  throne,  covered  with  the  fame  materials, 
fat  the  fachem.  At  his  left  hand  fat  a  woman,  whole 
Complexion  fpoke  her  of  European  defcent,  and  behind 
them  ftood  a  young  female,  in  appearance  about  fev- 
cnteen  years  old.  Her  i"kin  was  a  fhade  darker  than 
that  of  the  woman's;  her  eyes  were  of  that  kind  ii 
dark  grey,  which  may  almoft  be  termed  blue,  and  yet, 
from  the  fhade  of  long  black  eyelafhes,  may  fometimes 
be  miltaken  for  black.  Their  expreffion  was  at  once 
foft  and  animated,  and  her  dark  auburn  hair,  which 
diil  not  really  curl,  but  hung  in  waves  down  her  back 
and  over  her  fhoulders,  was  ornamented  with  a  few 
glafs  beads,  and  a  tuft  of  fcarlet  feathers,  fancifully 
arranged,  and  not  entirely  devoid  of  tafce.  The  reft 
of  her  drefs,  though  greatly  fimilar  to  the  other  wom- 
en, had  a  (bmething  of  delicacy,  in  its  formation  anil 
method  of  being  put  on,  that  was  particularly  pleafmg 
to  Europeans.  Her  figure  was  above  the  middle 
fize,  yet  not  robuft  enough  to  be  thought  mafculine, 
though  every  feature  glowed  with  ruddy  health,  every 
Jimb  difplayed  the  tfrength  and  firmnefs  of  her  frame. 

She 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         293 

She  ftood  with  her  right  hand  leaning  on  the  fachem's 
moulder,  in  her  left  ihe  held  an  unbraced  bow,  and  a 
quiver  full  of  arrows  was  flung  acrofs  her  back. 

Wampoogohoon  received  the  captives  with  a  kind 
of  fallen  dignity.  He  fpoke  to  them  in  very  bad  En- 
glilli,  but  they,  understood  fufficient  to  comprehend 
that  he  mean  to  detain  them  till  the  captured  Indians 
were  returned  in  faiety. 

During  the  time  lie  was  fpeaking,  Reuben  looked 
attentively  at  the  two  women,  who  Irom  their  places, 
and  the  univerfal  refpect  paid  them,  lie  concluded 
were  the  wife  and  daughter  of  the  chief.  The  penfivc 
nefs  manifeil  in  the  countenance  of  the  elder,  the  beau- 
ty and  majeity  of  the  younger,  awakened  in  his  bofom 
a  wifh  to  be  acquainted  with  their  ftory  ;  for  he  was 
certain  they  wer«.  of  European  extraction,  though  of 
what  nation  he  could  not  determine,  as  they  had  neither 
of  them  fpoke. 

At  length,  when  the  conference  was  ended,  and  the 
fachem  waved  his  hand  for  them  to  depart,  his  wife 
aroie,  and  fpoke  to  him  in  the  Mohawk  tongue,  Reu- 
ben perceived,  irom  the  fait  tone  of  her  voice  and  her 
earneit  manner,  that  it  was  a  (application.  He  an- 
fwered,  but  not  with  the  gentlell  accent  ;  ihe  laid  her 
hand  on  his  arm,  and  repeated  her  requeft,  in  which 
ihe  was  joined  by  Eumea,  his  daughter.  He  looked 
irrefolute  for  a  moment,  then  feeming  to  acquiefce  in 
their  demands,  aroie  from  his  feat,  and  taking  his  bow 
and  arrows,  was  followed  by  his  attendants  out  of  the 
wigwam. 

The  two  interefting  females  now  came  forward, 
and  the  eldelt,  whole  name  was  Victoire,.kddrtuedeur 
hero  in  very  tolerable  French  : 

"  Stranger,  I  am  forry  for  your  captivity,  though 
my  fituation  among!!  theft  Indians  makes  me  appear 
your  enemy.  Yourftlf  and  companions  are  no  doubt 
lurpriied,  to  fee  a  perion  of  my  complexion  fo  inti- 
mately connected  with  one  of  theirs;  my  ftory  may 
be  told  in  a  few  words.  My  mother,  a  native  of 
trance,  being  of  a  protectant  family,  and  apprehend- 
ing perlecution,  emigrated  to  this  new-found  world, 
h  b  2  in 


29+       REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

in  company  with  her  hufband,  a  man  of  drift  piety 
and  principles.  Their  portion  of  worldly  goods  was 
not  large  ;  they  purchaled  a  wild,  uncultivated  fpot 
upon  the  borders  of  the  Allegany,  and  by  five  years 
of  indefatigable  labour,  rendered  their  little  hut  and 
furrounding  garden,  together  with  one  field,  tolerably 
comfortable  ;  but  j uft  when  they  began  to  talte  fome 
fmall  degree  of  happinefs,  which  would  fcarcely  have 
deferved  the  name,  but  by  being  contrafted  with  the 
excefs  of  hardlhip  they  had  endured  in  clearing  and 
rendering  their  little  demefne  fit  for  cultivation  ;  then, 
at  the  moment  when  they  hoped  to  reap  the  reward  of 
their  labours,  a  party  of  Mohawks  came  down  upon 
them,  rifled  and  deftroyed  their  dwelling,  murdered 
my  father  and  two  little  brothers,  and  carried  my 
wretched  mother  and  myfelf,  then  only  a  year  old,  in- 
to captivity." 

Victoire  paufed  ;  fhe  feemed  affected  ;  a  tear  glif- 
tened  in  the  expreffive  eyes  of  Eumea.  At  length  the 
former  proceeded : — 

"  My  mother  was  a  convincing  proof  of  the  excefs 
of  mifery  the  human  mind  can  fuffer  ;  ilie  furvived 
the  lofs  of  a  hufband  tenderly  beloved,  and  two  chil- 
dren. I  was  her  comfort,  her  ftay,  which  held  her  to 
this  world  ;  for  my  fake  fhe  bore  captivity  without 
murmuring,  for  my  fake  ihe  wiflied  and  ft  rove  to  pre- 
ferve  her  exiftence  ;  fhe  lived  till  1  was  fourteen  years 
old,  and  gave  me  every  inftruction  which  memory  fur- 
nilhed,  for  fhe  had  no  afliftance  from  books.  She  in- 
ftilled  into  my  young  mind  a  knowledge  and  love  of 
a  fiipreme,  benignant  Being,  and  taught  me  to  place  my 
whole  dependence  on  him,  whofe  goodnefs  was  equal 
to  his  power. 

"  Wampoogchoon  was  the  youngeft  fon  of  the  fa- 
chem,  who  at  that  time  governed  this  tribe  ;  he  offer- 
ed mc  his  protection.  My  mother,  in  a  dying  ftate, 
rather  than  leave  me  expofed  to  infult,  advifed  me  to 
accede  to  his  propofal,  and  I  became  his  wife.  His 
father  and  brothers  are  fince  dead,  and  you  behold 
him  a  chief  of  the  Mohawks.  He  is  not  unkind  to 
me,  and  as  the  father  of  my  children,  I  feel  an  affec- 
tion 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         295 

tion  for  him.  Eumea  is  the  only  furviving  child  I 
have  or'  fix  ;  for  her  fake,  I  wilh  for  fome  intercourfc 
with  the  Europeans,  that  her  mind,  which  is  not  a  bar- 
ren foil,  may  receive  the  culture  of  education.  To 
this  end,  I  have  requefted  my  hufband  to  permit  you 
to  have  a  wigwam  to  yourfelves,  where  you  may  dwell 
in  quiet,  till  we  hear  of  the  fafety  of  thofe  Indians  who 
have  been  detained  by  your  party.  In  return,  1  only 
requeft  you  to  exert  your  abilities  to  inllruct,  in  your 
language,  cuftoms,  manners  and  religion,  my  child 
Eumea." 

Saying  this,  fhe  prefented  the  Indian  maid  to  Reu- 
ben, who. allured  Victoire  he  would  do  all  in  his  pow- 
er to  return  the  obligation  fhe  had  conferred. 

He  was  then,  with  his  companions,  fhewn  to  a  hab- 
itation that  wore  a  trifling  appearance  of  comfort  ;  in 
it  were  three  or  four  bear  fkins,  a  quantity  of  clean 
dry  ftraw,  fome  dried  fifh,  venifon  and  maize,  and 
without  was  plenty  of  fuel. 

Here  our  hero  indulged  himfelf  in  reflection  ;  anil 
often  would  his  thoughts  revert  to  his  grandfather, 
William  Dudley,  who  was  for  many  years  in  a  fitua- 
tion  fomewhat  limilar.  But  Reuben  had  lecn  too  much 
of  favage  men  and  manners  to  have  a  wilh  to  remain 
amonglt  them,  even  though  he  might  have  been  ele- 
vated to  the  highefl  feat  of  dignity. 

It  was  at  once  a  comfort  and  amufement  to  Reu- 
ben, that  he  was  obliged,  for  feveral  hours  every  day, 
to  employ  his  mind,  in  order  to  cultivate  that  of  his 
pupil  Eumea.  He  contrived,  by  boiling  the  fhumak 
berries,  to  make  a  liquid  with  which  he  could  write  on 
white  birch  bark.  In  this  manner,  he  made  an  alpha- 
bet, which  fhe  prefently  learnt  ;  and  feeming  to  de- 
light in  attending  to  his  inftruclions,  he  experienced  a 
double  fatisfaftion  in  endeavouring  to  expand  and  in- 
form her  underftanding.  She  was  foon  able  to  read 
ihort  fentences,  which  he  compofed  for  her  ;  his  hand 
being  generally  employed,  and  his  mind  often  totally 
occupied  in  flriving  to  recoiled  what  might  be  of  the 
mod  fervice  to  his  lovely  fcholar,  he  had  little  time  for 
reflection. 

O'Neil 


*90         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

O'Noil  laboured  inceflantly  to  keep  then-  dwelling 
warn  and  tight ;  and  fomctimes  lie  went  out  with  his 
gun,  and  brought  home  fbtae  kind  of  game  which 
ierved  to  divetliiyi  their  fcanty  repafts  ;  and  often  Vic- 
toiie  would  accompany  her  daughter,  to  their  wigwam, 
and  on  thofe  occafions  generally  carried  fomething 
v.  inch  they  drought  a  delicacy,  fuch  as  noa-cake, 
omatarny,  or  fuccatafii,  \iar.ds  compofedof  maize  and 
dried  beans ;  and  thus  wore  away  a- very  long  and  in- 
ly ievere  winter.  Reuben  had  been,  a  prifoner 
above  fix  months,  and  yet  no  news  had  arrived  that 
could  raife  his  hopes  of  fpecdy  liberation  ;  and  wc 
mull  leave  him  amonglt  thefe  children  of  nature,  and' 
return  to  our  heroine,  whom  we  left  married  to  Ham- 
den  Aubciry,  but  "living  in  the  vicinity  of  Mary-le,r 
bone   under  the  anumedname  of  Dacres. 

■<<•<<  «$?.;'&§&'>■  >>->••>- 

CHAP,      XIV.. 
Scandal — Separation — Jeahufy. 

I'  T  has  been  already  remarked,  that  Rachel  had  as 
little  curiofity  in  her  compofition  as  any  woman 
exifting  :  fhe  was  alfo  by  nature  of  a  retired,  quiet 
turn  of  mind,  though  eafily  led  into  fcenes  of  diffipa- 
tion,  in  which,  as  Hie  generally  mixed  to  gratify  oth- 
ers, 'fhe  took  but  little  fatisfaflion..  She  therefore 
fpent  the  chief  of  her  time  at  home,  either  employed 
at  her  needle,  or  reading.  Hamden  was  fond  of  mu- 
fic  ;  he  had  procured  her  afpinnet  and  a  matter.  She 
had  a  confiderable  tafte  for  drawing  ;  Hamden  was 
a  proficient  in  the  art  ;  he  directed  and  improved  her 
judgment;  pointed  out  proper  fubjects  for  thecxerciie 
of  her  genius,  and  with  her  bock,  her  pencil,  her  nee- 
dle, mufic,  and  fome  few  domeftic  concerns,  fhe  fo 
fweetly  diverfified  her  time,  that  not  one  moment 
hung  heavy  on  her  hands.  Indeed,  Rachel  had,  from 
her  childhood,  been  taught  that  moll  ufeful,  and  to 
thofe  who  praclife  it,  that  moll  pleafant  of  all  Li  ions, 

conllant 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  297 

con  (hint  employment  ;  that  it  is  better  to  be  engaged 
in  trifling  purfuits  (if  innocent)  than  fufEer  the  mind 
to  (ink  into  inanity  for  want  of  exercife. 

Hamden  remained  in  London  about  a  month  or  fix 
Weeks  after  their  marriage.  He  then  left  her  to  return 
to  his  aunt,  who  was  (till  in  Scotland  ;  and  at  the 
time  h'e  bade  his  dear  Rachel  adieu,  he  purpofed  re- 
turning toiler  within  the  (pace  of  two  months. 

After  the   departure   of  her  hufband,   our  heroine 

continued  the  fame  regular  courfe  of  life.      But  Calum- 
et 

ny,  who  has  a  hundred  ears,  a  thoufand  eyes,  and  ten 
thoufand  tongues,  not  one  of  which  is  ever  fuffered  to 
•  flumbcr  for  an  inftanl,  could  not  permit  her  to  enjoy 
her  favourite  and  inofFenfive  employment  unmolclled. 
Though  Rachel  had  imagined  that  the  uniform  ten- 
or  of  her  conduct  was  fuch,  as  might  defy  even  the 
prying  eyes  oi'  malice  and  envy,  yet  (he  felt  there 
was  fomething  wrong  in  her  appearance;  She  went 
by  an  all'umed  name  ;  yet,  confident  that  ihc  was  in 
reality  the  wife  of  Auberry,  (he  alio  felt  that  though 
(he  had  tranfgrefled  the  bounds  ot  prudence,  (he  had 
ftrictly  adhered  to  the  rales  of  virtue  and  morality ; 
and  this  internal  aflurance  gave  her  great  comfort. 
And  when  retiring  for  the  night,  (he  would  reflect 
that  her  heart  was  in  univerfal  charity  with  all  her 
fellow-creatures,  that  her  purfuits  were  altogether 
harmlefs,  and  in  fomc  degree  laudable  ;  a  fweet  fe- 
rer.ity  would  diifufe  itfelf  through  her  bofom,  and  of- 
fering up  her  prayers  for  the  fafety  of  her  beloved 
Reuben,  and  her  almoft  adored  hufband,  (he  would 
fink  into  a  (lumber,  as  compofed  and  refrefhing  as  her 
own  mind  was  pure  and  uncontaminated. 

The  heart  that  is  itfelf  a  (Iranger  to  guilt  fufpects 
it  not  in  another.  Such  was  the  heart  of  Rachel  ; 
without  enthutiafm  pious,  witJiout  oilentadon  charita- 
ble, and  innately  virtuous,  without  an  idea  that  there 
was  any  particular  merit  in  being  fo  ;  fince,  without 
being  inieniible  to  the  inevitable  miiery  that  mult  and 
ever  will  follow  the  forfeiture  of  that  incfiimable  jewel, 
chaftity,  (he  wondered  how  fo  many  Jheadlefs '  women 
fel|  into  an  error  fo  repugnant  to  her  own  feelings- 

As 


:..3         REUBEN    and    RACHEL; 

As  Major  Auberry  was  certain  he  could  not  remnifr 
long  with  his  wife,  when  he  feci;  red  her  a  handfome  and 
convenient  place  of  i  e!idence,he  was  not  forgetful  of  the 
pleafure  thatiwould  naturally  reiult  from  a  companion 
of  her  own  lex  being  under  the  fume  roof  with  her.  Inhia 
fearch  after  lodgings  or  a  ready  furniliied  hemfe,  chance 
directed  him  to  Mrs.  Varnice,  the  widow  of  an  attorney, 
whole  pride  would  not  filler  her  to  leave  the  hou!: 
her  hulhand  had  engaged  but  a  fhort  time  before  his 
«!c  lili,  and  who  would,  to  fupport  that  pride,  (the  real 
origin  of  which  was  meamiefs,  not  real  dignity  oi  foul) 
fubmit  to  any  thing  but  labour. 

At  the  time  Major  Auberry  applied  for  the  upper 
part  of  her  houfc,  fhe  knew  him,  and  that  his  name 
was  not  Dacres.  "  But  he  will  pay  me  well,"  faid 
flie  mentally  ;  fo  fhe  concealed  her  knowledge,  and 
agreed  to  our  heroine's  becoming  the  miftrefs  of  the 
apartments. 

When  Rachel  was  firfl  introduced  to  her,  fhe  ob- 
ferved  her  lovely,  majeflic  form,  and  fweetly  intereft- 
ing  countenance.  Mrs.  Varnice  was  fhort,  rather  too 
much  c??i  Ion  point,  dark  complexioned,  and  on  the. 
wrong  lide  of  forty  ;  but  her  eyes,  which  were  of  jetty 
hue,  and  whofe  brilliancy  ihe  endeavoured  to  increate 
by  an  artful  tinge  of  rouge  on  her  high  cheek-bones, 
were  animated  and  expreffivc,  and  (he  was  not  with- 
out hope  that  fome  future  conqueft  might  fecure  to  her 
a  fecond  matrimonial  eftablifliment.  To  fuch  a  wom- 
an, the  fir  ft  appearance  of  our  heroine  was  by  no 
means  prepoffdbng. 

"  She  is  certainly  handfome  (faid  fhe,  on  the  day 
Rachel  took  poifeffion  of  her  new  lodgings)  fhe  is 
handfome,  I  mull  own  ;  but  your  pretty  women  have 
feldorn  much -to  recommend  them  befides  their  beau- 
ty." This  remark  was  made  to  a  poor  relation,  who 
was  dependent  on  Mrs.  Varnice  for  bread ;  an  unfor- 
tunate being,  who,  from  want  o{  education,  and  ex- 
treme poverty,  polfelled  a  mind  as  abject  as  her  cir- 
cumftances. 

Education,  fpirit  of  light,  being  of  the  firft  order, 
who  in  thy  right  hand  doit  hold  a  magic  minor,  dif- 

playing 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  299 

playing  to  the  aftoniflicd  fenfe  of  youth  the  wondrous, 
iafcinating  charms  of  nature-;  who,  fiill  receding  as 
we  purine,  yet  ftill  displaying  fomething  Grange  and 
charming,  inviteft  the  admiring  pupil  ilill  to  follow  ; 
■whole  left  hand  holds  a  tablet,  on  which  is  written  all 
that  was  learnt  from  thy  inilruclive  mirror  ;  who  as 
thou  paired,  giving  place  to  age,  who  hangs  his  head 
■and  droops  that  thou  canft  charm  no  more,  prefenteft. 
the  tablets,  whence  fond  memory  gUans  Something  to 
cheer  the  faft  cold  eve  of  life,  and  being  tranfmitted 
to  the  rifing  age, .Incite  them  I  thy  c:irliclt  call, 

follow  thee  through  thy  moil  intricate  labyrinths,  that, 
as  thou    -.'oil    aicend  the   hill  of  I  liug  before 

them   ilill  the  mftr.i  is,  each] riling  age  may 

take  a  higlter  ilep,  till  ftail  humanity  Hands  on  thy 
fcmrnit : — Education*  thou  fnif,  belt  gift  that  mortals 
can  receive  :  thofe  who  know  thee  not,  conceiving  not 
.  thy  intrinfic  value,  flight  thee,  condemn  ihee,  treat  thee 
with  contempt;  but  they  \  bo  feet  thy,  influence,  be- 
nignant power,  will  revere  ....  worship  thee,  and 
thy  fmiles,  humbly  entreating  that-  the  riling 
might  fully  comprehend  and  taite  thy  beauties. 
Rachel  had  received  ag<  od,  'h-  ugh  not  a  brilliant 
education  ;  her  mind  was  therefore  tree  from  preju- 
dice. Mrs.  Varnice  and  her  couiia  Lettuce  were  to- 
tally uncultivated,  and  fuperftitiott  and  prejudice  were 
e;iiil)  admitted  and  encouraged*  The  former  of  thcio 
women,  therefore,  concluded  OUT  heroine  to  be  a  de- 
luded victim  to  inexperience  and  affection,  She 
thought  the  infatuation  (as  ihe  called  it)  of  Hamdeu 
would  not  laft  long,  and  wifely  imagined,  by  paying 
the  moil  marked  attention  to  him,  by  giving  up  her 
Own  opinion  whenever  it  was  in  oppolition  to  his,  and 
in  a  hundred  diiferent  forms,  which  fhe  conceived  to 
be  the  height  of  complaifance,  but  which  to  Auberry 
himfelf  appeared  to  have  partook  more  of  abject  fer- 
vility,  to  fupplant  her  in  his  good  opinion  ;  how- 
ever, as  he  imagined  her,  in  the  main,  a  good- 
natured,  inoffenfive  woman,  he  encouraged  her  ad- 
vances to  an  intimacy  with  Rachel.  He  knew  die 
■  j  of  our  heroine's  mind,   and  native   good   fenfe 

would 


3oo        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

■would  prevent  her  receiving  any  ill  impreffions,  or  con- 
tracting any  low  ideas  from  convcrfing  with  a  woman 
every  way  fo  infinitely  her  inferior,  and  at  the  fame 
time  thought  her  knowledge  oi  the  world  might  guard 
the  inexperienced  Rachel  from  impofitions. 

If  the  firft  fight  of  our  heroine  awakened  in  the  bof- 
•>m  of  Mrs.  Varnice  the  malignant  fiend  envy,  her 
manners  and  convcrfation  affilted  to  heighten  it,  and 
in  left  than  a  fortnight  Mrs.  Varnice  pronounced  her 
to  be  proud,  conceited,  foolifli,  in  fhort,  every  tiling 
that  was  the  direct  oppofite  to  her  real  difpofition. 
Yet  fhe  concealed  her  opinion,  and  would  take  oppor- 
tunities to  admire  her  understanding,  praife  her  fhape, 
her  complexion,  even  the  tone  of  her  voice.  Rachel 
was  not  greedy  of  flattery  ;  but  where  is  the  human 
being  that  can  at  all  times  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  its  adu- 
lating voice,  or  iteel  their  hearts  to  its  infinualing 
finalities  ? 

When  Auberry  left  his  wife  to  go  to  his  aunt  in 
Scotland,  Mrs.  Varnice  had  not  an  idea  that  he  meant 
to  return,  and  felt  fomevhat  mortified  that  all  her  arts 
to  attract  his  notice  had  proved  ineffectual  ;  but  as  ilie 
found  it  would  be  to  no  ufe  to  repine,  fhe  turned  her 
thoughts  to  what  advantage  might  be  made  of  our 
heroine. 

The  parting  between  Major  Auberry  and  his  lady 
had  been  extremely  painful  on  both  fides.  Rachel's 
heart  funk  within  her,  and  as  the  chaife  drove  from 
the  door,  her  emotions  became  fo  violent,  that  Mrs. 
Varnice  was  obliged  to  lead  her  into  her  own  parlour, 
and  give  her  a  glafs  of  drops  and  water. 

"  Come,  come,  my  dear  Madam,"  laid  fhe,  as  Ra- 
chel endeavoured  to  fupprefs  her  tears,  "  you  mull 
not  give  way  to  this  immoderate  forrow  ;  Mr.  Dacres, 
I  dare  fay,  will  foon  come  back  again  ;  I  fuppofe  he 
is  not  gone  very  far." 

"  Four  hundred  miles,"  faid  P  achelj  "  appears  to 
me  an  immenfe  diftance  ;  and  I  know  not  how  to  ac- 
count for  it,  but  1  feel  inch  an  oppreffion  at  my  hiar.t, 
it  fecms  as  though  I  had  beheld  him  for  the  laft  time, 
and  yet  I  know  he  will  return  as  early  as  poflible." 

"  O  !  to 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  301 

"  O  !  to  be  fure  he  will  ;  he  promifed  to  come  back 
foort,  did  not  he  ?" 

"  He  will  come  as  foon  as  he  can,  I  know ;  but  the 
length  of  his  ftay  docs  not  depend  entirely  on  himfelr. 
However,  he  lias  promifed  1  ihould  hear  from  him 
very  often,  and  I  fhall  count  the  moments  with  impa- 
tience till  I  can  hope  to  receive  a  letter.  I  have  been 
very  troublefome  to  you,  Madam,"  continued  fhc, 
riling  to  quit  the  parlour  ;  "  pray  pardon  my  childifh 
behaviour  ;  I  will  retire  and  endeavour  to  attain  for- 
titude to  bear  this  rirft  (and  I  hope  in  Heaven  it  will 
be  the  laft)  feparation." 

Her  eyes  filled  again  as  fhc  fpokc,  and  courtefying 
haftily,  fhe  repaired  to  her  own  apartment ;  and  hav- 
ing dihSurthened  her  heart  by  giving  a  free  courfe  to 
her  tears,  flie  compofed  her  fpirits  ;  and  affcrting  that 
unJcrltanding  which  was  ever  ready  at  her  call,  fhc 
began  to  employ  herfelf  on  a  piece  of  embroidery,  the 
pattern  for  which  was  drawn  by  Hamden  ;  from  that 
fiie  went  to  her  fpinnet,  and  played  as  well  as  fhe  could 
a  trifling  air  which  he  had  taught  her.  Thefe  em- 
ployments amufed  and  foothed  her.  She  became  com- 
pofed, and  determined,  during  this  enforced  and  pain- 
ful abfence,  to  occupy  herfelf  in  acquiring  thofe  ac- 
•complifhments  which  fhe  knew  would  be  mod  agreea- 
ble to  her  hufbanil.  Every  trace  of  the  primitive  pu- 
ritan was  r.n\v  entirely  aboliihed,  except  that  fhc  was 
extremely  neat  in  her  drefs,  and  fimple  in  her  mari- 
ners. She  followed  fa fliion  as  far  as  fhe  thought  it 
comment  with  propriety,  nut  no  farther;  and  though 
ltnnigcrs  would  pronounce  her  perfectly  elegant  at 
the  firil  glance,  were  they  to  fcrutinire  the  feveral  ar- 
ticles that  compofed  her  apparel,  th.y  would  be  at  a 
lofsto  fay  what  particularly  conhituted  that  elegance. 
In  (hart,  Rachel  was  the  kind  of  woman  who  e.ivc* 
tide  and  faflrion  to  every  thing  flic  wears,  however 
plain  its  formation,  however  common  the  materials  of 
which  it  is  made. 

The  ftate  of  her  mind  after  the   departure  of  her 

huftand  was  fuch,    as  precluded  every  idea  of  feeking 

fbciety  during  the  day.     She   attempted,   but   the  at- 

C  c  tempt 


302         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

tempt  was  vain,  to  partake  of  a  meal  which  the  care 
of  Lettuce  had  provided  (for  Lettuce  had  performed 
the  office  of  attendant  oil  the  perfon  of  our  heroine 
from  the  firft.  day  of  her  refidence  in  the  houfe  of  Mrs. 
V'arnicc)  ;  but  towards  evening  ihe  began  to  reflect, 
that  the  folicitudc  ar.d  attention  of  her  hoftefs  de- 
manded fomc  return  ;  flie  therefore  requcfted  flic  would 
come  and  take  tea  in  her  apartment. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  October,  and  the  twilight 
at  that  period  foon  clofes  ;  it  was  fix  o'clock,  when 
the  tea  things  were  placed  on  the  table  ;  a  cheerful 
fire  illumined  the  hearth,  two  wax  candles  lent  their 
rays  to  enliven  the  fcene,  the  windows  were  doled, 
the  curtains  let  down,  and  perfect  filence  reigned  in 
the  apartments.  The  houfe  was  as  retired  as  though 
twenty  miles  from  London,  and  not  a  found  intcrupt- 
cd  the  tranquillity  of  the  furrounding  fcene,  fave  now 
and  then  the  rattle  of  a  folitary  carriage  palling  to  and 
from  the  environs  of  the  city. 

If  there  is  a  moment  in  which  the  human  mind  is 
more  inclined  to  unbend,  and  place  an  unlimited  con- 
fidence in  thole  who  profefs  a  friendship,  it  is,  when 
fully  comprehending  ihe  charms  of  folitude,  we  find 
that  folitude  may  be  enlivened  by  being  participated 
by  one  who  enters  into  all  our  feelings,  and  fmilcs  ov 
weeps  as  the  colour  of  our  fate  or  expreffion  of  our 
f  ntiments  excites  the  oppofite  emotions.  Such  was 
the  moment  we  have  juft  defcribed,  nor  was  our  hero- 
ine infenfible  to  its  influence. 

"  I  am  glad  to  fee  you  fo  much  recovered,"  faid 
Mrs.  Varnice,  feating  herfelf  at  the  tea-table,  and 
drawing  the  tea-board  towards  her,  which  Lettuce 
had  juiH) rough t  in  j  «« fhall  I  fave  you  the  trouble  and 
make  the  tea  •"' 

Rachel  acknowledged  her  goodnefs,  and  acquiefced 
in  the  propofal. 

"  I  fuppofe  Mr.  Dacres,"  faid  flic  with  a  figh,  "  is 
now  many  miles  diftant  from  me  ;  and  fuppofe  he 
writes  at  the  firft.  poll  town,  when  may  I  expect  to 
hear  from  him  ?" 

"  That  I  cannot  tell,"  faid  the  artful  Mrs.  Varnice, 
«  unlefs  I  knew  what  road  h:  took."  "  The 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         303 

*  The  High  North-road." 

"  Well,  you  may  hear  from  him  fooner,  but  I  do  not 
imagine  he  will  write  till  he  gets  to  York.  He  is  a 
beautiful  man,"  taking  a  miniature  in  her  hand  that 
hung  by  a  ribbon  round  Rachel's  neck,  "a very  hand- 
fome  man  indeed ;  and  I  think  there  is  Something  in 
your  countenances  very  much  alike,  veiy  much  in- 
deed, juft  about  the  eyes  and  the  mouth  ;  that  pretty 
dimple,  juit  at  the  left  corner.  Well,  you  were  cer- 
tainly relations." 

"  No  indeed,  we  were  not,  I  never  few  him  till 
within  eight  months  of  our  union." 

"  Indeed  !  Well,  I  could  have  fworn  you  had  beea 
coufins.     Where  were  you  married,  in  London :" 

« In  Weftminftcr." 

"  In  Weftminftcr  ?  what  at  the  Abbey  >H 

"  No." 

"  At  St.  James's  Church  ?" 

"No." 

"Oh  !  you  were  married  at  St.  Margaret's  ?" 

"  No,  I  was  not." 

*'  Blefs  me,  then  what  church  was  it :" 

"  Pardon  me,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  fey." 

Mrs.  Varnice  fmiled.  "  Ah  !  I  uiideriLind  nour ; 
it  was  a  ftolen  match  ?"  ^ 

"  Not  entirely  fo." 

"  What,  I  fuppofe  your  friends  knew  it  ?" 

"  I  have  no  friends  in  England." 

"  None  ?" 

"  No,  not  one.  I  have  a  brother,  a  dear,  refpeflu- 
ble,  worthy  brother  ;  but  he  is  in  America." 

"  In  America  ?  Dear  me  ;  what  all  amongft  the 
blacks  and  the  wild  Indians  ?" 

Rachel  could  not  fupprefs  an  inclination  to  fmile, 
whilft  fhe  anfwered,  "  No,  Madam,  amongft  the  Euro- 
pean fettlcrs,  who  have,  within  the  laft  century,  emi- 
grated into  the  new  world,  which  I  understand  is  a 
fertile  continent  extending  from  north  to  fouth,  and 
conllituting  one  cniire  quarter  of  the  habitable  globe." 

"  And  fo,  your  brother  is  gone  over  fea  to  thofe 
ftrange  parts.  And  what  could  tempt  him  to  leave 
dear  little  England  ?"  "  To 


304         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

"  To  inquire  after  property  my  father  left  thcrs."' 

"  Dear  well,  how  odd  !  And  i'o  your  father  died 
abroad." 

"  No,  he  was  loft  on  his  paflage  home,  even  when 
in  fight  of  his  native  mores. M 

"  Oh  dear  !  hew  unfortunate  !  So  you  have  no 
friends  in  London  ?" 

"  In  London  ?  No,  nor  in  England,  except  my  huf- 
band." 

"  Dear  me  I  Well,  I  hope  he  will  prove  a  faithful, 
good  Em/band  to  you." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  his  failh  or  tendernefs." 

"  Oh  dear  no !  I  dare  fay  not  ;  though  men  are 
ftrange,  inconftant  beings,  will  profefs  much  without 
meaning  any  thing,  marry  women  under  a/fumed 
names,  and  never  care  for  them   after  a  little  while." 

**  There  may  have  been  fuch  things,"  faid  Rachel  ; 
•'but  for  the  honour  of  human  nature,  I  could  wiih 
not  to  believe  them  pofilblc  till  my  fenfes  convince 
me." 

*'  Sweet  innocent  !  I  wiih  you  may  never  be  con- 
vinced," faid  Mrs.  Varnice  pointedly. 

This  exclamation  awakened  fomething  in  the  befom 
of  Rachel,  that  could  not  rightly  be  termed  either  jeal- 
oafy  or  curiofity,  but  it  was  a  mixture  of  both  ;  and 
the  artful  Varnice  led  her  on,  till  /he  had  gleaned  from 
Rachel  (only  that  names  were  concealed)  every  eir- 
cumilance  relating  to  herfelf,  her  brother  and  her 
huft>and. 

After  a  day  or  two  paft  in  that  kind  of  uncomfort- 
able, unconnected  manner,  which  every  perfon  of  fen- 
fibility  muil  h^ve  experienced  when  icparated  from  the 
chofen  friend  cf  their  hearts,  Pvachel  began  again  to 
lefume  her  ufual  avocations.  Her  needle  employed 
the  earlieft  hours  of  morning,  after  which  flic  drcfled, 
and  walked  into  the  fields  for  air  and  exercile.  Her 
dinner  paft,  me  employed  the  intermediate  hours  be- 
tween that  and  evening  with  a  book,  her  pencil,  or  a 
leilon  on  her  ipinnet  ;  and  the  evenings  were  ufually 
paired  in  reading  to,  converfmg  and  working,  cr  play- 
ing picquet  with.  Mrs.  Varnice, 

"  But 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  305 

But  during  this  period,  it  mull  not  be  imagined 
that  Jhe  was  entirely  forgotten  by  her  quondam  friends, 
the  Webiters.  They  had  been  indetatigab<e  in  their 
inquiries,  till  they  found  out  her  lodgings,  and  hearing 
thai:  ihe  went  by  the  name  of  Dacres,  they  were  per- 
fuaded  that  Ihe  had  forgot  the  refpecl  due  to  herlelf, 
and  become  the  miftrefs  of  Hamden  Aubcrry. 

Mr.  Spriggins,  though  at  fir  ft  mortified  and  difap- 
pointed  by  her  fudden  departure  from  his  aunt's  houfe, 
foon  found  confolation,  by  transferring  his  devoirs  to 
his  eldeft  coufln,  by  whom  they  were  very  favourably 
received  ;  and  an  old  uncle  having  left  him  a  decent 
houfe,  (hop  and  ftock  in  trade,  in  a  market  town  in 
Northumberland,  he  foon  obtained  the  a/Tent  of  Mrs. 
Wcbfter,  and  took  her  fair  daughter,  to  mine  forth  in 
all  the  airs  and  finery  of  a  London  bride,  and  to  fet 
the  fafhions  fo*  three  months  to  come,  to  all  the  tradef- 
rnen's  wives  and  daughters  in  a  little  country  town. 
His  ihop  too  was  newly  painted  and  decorated  in  the 
London,  ftyle,.  and  Mr.  Spriggins  himfelf  was  fo  po- 
lite, fa  obliging,  that  he  foon  attracted  a  large  num- 
ber of  cuftomers. 

Beginning  the  world  thus,  net  only  without  cmbar- 
ralTments,  but  with  a  fmall  fum  of  ready  money  in 
hand,  this  young  couple  found,  in  a  very  ihort  time, 
that  they  were  in  a  fair  way  to  accumulate  a  fortune. 
The  wire,. though  proud,  vain,  and  fond  of  finery,  was 
meanly  pariimonious,  and  would  flint  her  family  in 
neceffaries,  in  order  to  buy  a  finer  gown,  or  give  a 
more  expenfive  treat  than  her  neighbours.  Belle 
Wcbfter  was  fent  for  to  be  her  companion,  and  fet 
her  rap  at  fome  of  the  fmart  young  men,  in  hopes  of 
an  eftablifhment  tor  life  ;  while  little  Polly  was  left  to 
afllft  and  confole  her  mother  for  the  lofs  of  her  two 
ikied  daughters. 

When  Hamden  Auberry  reached  his  uncle's  feat, 
he  was  received  with  fuch  affectionate  tokens  of  joy 
by  lady  Anne,  that  he  was  almofl  tempted,  in  that 
moment  of  tendernefs,  to  throw  himfelf  on  her  mercv, 
and  confefs  his  marriage.  Happy  had  it  been,  both 
for  himfelf  and  onr  heroine,  had  he  followed  the  im- 
Ccz  pulfe  ; 


3o6         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

pulfc  ;  but  he  rook  time  to  confidcr,  and  that  fcdfe 
pride,  which  was  his  only  foible,  reprefenteJ  to  him, 
that  he  was  fecurc  of  the  perfon  and  heart  of  Rachel, 
bound  to  her  by  the  moft  irrevocable  vows  ;  ho  haz- 
arded nothing,  therefore,  by  longer  concealment.  But 
to  avow  his  engagements  with  a  woman  in  refpeft  to 
rank  and  fortune  fo  diametrically  oppoiite  to  what  la- 
dy Anne  deiired,  might  forfeit  her  regard  forever  ; 
nay,  this  very  pride  nattered  him  that  it  was  for  the 
fake  of  his  wife  he  ilill  wiihed  to  conceal  their  union, 
and  that  the  wealth  and  confequence  in  lady  Anne's 
power  to  bellow  were  only  valued  by  him,  as,  by  pof- 
1  effing  them,  he  could  elevate  the  woman  of  his  choice 
to  a  rank  ihc  was  born  te  adorn.  Alas !  this  was 
falfe  reafening  ;  it  was  in  reality  an  unwillingnefs  to 
give  up  the  refpeel,  the  parade,  the  cafe  and  conve- 
niencies,  wealth  is  ever  certain  to  infure. 

Two  days  after  his  arrival  in  Scotland,  the  family 
were  furpvifed  by  the  fudden  and  unexpected  appear- 
ance of  lady  Lucy.  The  tour  to  the  continent  had 
been  {hortencd  by  an  untoward  incident,  and  lhe  hav- 
ing, on  her  return,  landed  at  Harwich,  flie  proceeded 
immediately  north,  without  going  to  London.  Lady 
Anne  was  not  difpleafed  by  the  return  of  her  niece  ; 
ihc  looked  upon  Hamden  as  the  certain  fucceflbr  to 
the  title  and  eitatcs  of  his  late  grandfather,  but  the 
thought  a  union  with  lady  Lucy  might  by  no  means 
retard  the  completion  of  her  wiihes,  which  were  to  fee 
him  at  the  head  of  her  family. 

It  was  the  evening  after  the  arrival  of  this  lady, 
that,fittmg  in  a  family  way  with  only  her  aunt  and  couf- 
in,  and  diverting  them  with  her  vivacity  and  innocent 
prattle,  when,  turning  fuddenly  to  Hamden,  fhe  cried, 
"  Ch  !  by  the  bye,  Coz,  how  does  your  pretty  Quaker 

girl  do  ?" 

J  Hamden's  face  was  but  a  trifle  paler  than  his  coat. 
He  hcfitated,  attempted  to  aniwer  -y  but  finding  him- 
felf  at  a  lofs  for  words,  affecled  a  laugh. 

« You  may   laugh,"    cried  lhe,   "bvt    I   declare   I 
thought,  her  very  pretty." 

««  Who 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         307 

"  Who  are  you  fpeaking  of  ?"  faid>  lady  Anne, 
fixing  her  eyes  on  the  glowing  face  of  Hamden. 

"  Oh  !  he  knows,"  continued  the  thoughtlefs  girl, 
•'and  now  1  have  the  fcene  full  in  my  mind,  I'll  tell 
you,  aunt.     You  muft  know  we  went  to  the  play. — " 

"  Nay,  dear  Lucy,"  laid  Hamden,  gaily  catching 
her  hand,  "  how  can  you  remember  fuch  ridiculous 
trifles  V 

"  Your  fervant,  coufm  Hamden  ;  it  was  no  t:  i;lo 
at  the  time.  Now,  aunt,  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was. 
Between  the  play  and  farce,  I  had  obftrved  a  very 
pretty,  interesting  Quaker,  who  fat  in  the  pit  looking 
very  earnestly  at  Mr.  Hamden.  I  fuppoie  fhe  had 
fecn  him  before.  Eh,  coufm  ? — Well,  dear  aunt,  the 
houfe  was  very  fall,  and  the  pretty  Quaker  fainted  ; 
when  behold  ye,  my  gentleman  here  takes  a  leap  over 
the  front  of  the  box,  and  milling  through  the  crpwd, 
flew  to  her  affiftance.  But  if  you  had  ieen  when  ihe 
recovered " 

"  A  little  moderation,  if  you  pleafe,  lady  Lucy," 
cried  Hamden,  eagerly  interrupting  her  ;  "  you  paint 
the  fcene  in  fuch  lively  colours,  that  my  aunt  will  fup- 
pofe  the  bagatelle  of  confequence." 

"  And  your  manner,  Hamden,  does  not  contradict 
the  fuppofition,"  faid  lady  Anne  pointedly.  »'  Pray 
who  was  this  fainting  damfel  ?" 

"  It  was  a  Mifs  Dudley,"  faid  Hamden,  in  a  hur- 
ried accent ;  "  I  was  introduced  to  her  when  I  laft  vif- 
ited  my  mother." 

"  Indeed  !"  faid  lady  Anne,  farcaflically. 

"Yes,  fhe  was  a  great  favourite  of  my  mother's  ; 
but  I  underltand  fhe  is  lately  married  to  an  old  crony 
of  mine,  one  Dacres.  I  am  fure,  aunt,  you  muft  re- 
member what  friends  Tom  Dacres  and  I  were  when 
boys." 

"  And  are  you  friends  now  ?"  faid  Lucy  with  a 
half  fmile  and  a  fly  glance  at  her  aunt. 

Lady  Anne  was  ihuck  with  the  evident  embarrafT- 
ment  of  Hamden  ;  ihe   therefore  put   an  end  to  the 
converfation  by  riling  and  defiring  him  to  attend  her 
to  her  clofet.     Here  a  converfation  enfued,  which  con- 
vinced 


3c8         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;   o*, 

vinced  Auberry,  that  the  moment  his  aunt  fhould  he 
allured  of  his  havtag  formed  a  family  connexion  with 
our  heroine,  would  be  the  laft  of  her  favour. 

"  I  muit  diflemble  longer,"  laid  he.  Alas !  diffimr 
illation  is  feldom  nccdlary,  can  never  ho.  laudable*, 
and  was  in  this  cafe  defpicable.- 15ut  we  will.  re- 
turn to  our  heroine. 

The  firlt  fix  weeks  of  her  hufband's  abfence  flie  bors 
with  tolerable  patience  ;  when  a  month  more  palled 
over,  and  no  hope  of  his  return,  flie  murmured  at  the 
delay  ;  but  when,  at  laft,  week  after  week  glided  en, 
and  Auberry  did  not  appear,  lhe  began  to  defpond. 

Mrs  Varirice  was  not  furprifed  ;  it  was  what  lhe  had 
expecled.  She  by  How  anil  almolt  imperceptible  de- 
grees endeavoured  to  undermine  the  principles  of  our 
heroine  ;  but  Rachel,  though  not  quick  i:t  difcerning 
evil  (becaufe  almoft  a  ftranger  to  its  baneful  qualities) 
at  laic  ddcovered  her  aim,  and  repulfed  her  with  the 
f<.orn  lhe  merited. 

But  innocence  is  ever  inadequate  to  oppofe,  with  any 
degree  of  fuccefs,  the  united  powers  of  envy  and  cun- 
ning. In  revenge  for  the  contempt  with  which  lhe 
had  been  treated,  Mrs.  Varnice  fupprelfed  the  next 
letter  with  which  Lettuce  was  entrufted  to  carry  to 
the  port,  opened,  read  it,  and  committed  it  to  the  fire. 
By  the  tenor  of  this  letter,  lhe  comprehended  that  Ra- 
i  he!  fully  believed  herfelf  the  wife  of  Auberry  ;  but  this 
flie  knew  before,  and  inwardly  laughed  at  what  lhe 
fnppofed  to  be  the  credulity  of  .a  fond,  unfufpc&ing 
girl. 

Having  once  began  to  interrupt  the  correspondence, 
flie  did  not  hetitate  the  next  poll-night  to  make  Let- 
tuce keep  watch  at  the  (treet  door,  and  prevent  the 
rap  of  the  poll-man,  which  would  have  immediately 
called  our  heroine  down  ftairs.  The  ftratagem  fuc- 
ceeded  ;  (lie  took  the  expecled  letter  from  the  polt- 
man's  hand,  paid  the  poltage,  and  retired  to  her  own 
apartment  to  read  it. 

It  has  often  been  faid,  that  envy  is  its  own  p.uni  flier, 
and  in  this  cafe  the  adage  was  completely  verified  ;  for 
when  from  this  letter  me  discovered  that  Hamden  re- 
ally 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  309 

ylly  was,  and  freely  acknowledged  himfelf,  the  huf- 
bandofour  heroine,  her  heart  overflowed  with  ran- 
cour, and  ihe  determined  to  hefitate  at  nothing  which 
might  be  likely  to  poifon  the  happinefs  of  one  me  at 
once  envied  and  hated. 

One  act  of  guilt  leads  but  to  the  commiffion  of  an- 
other ;  it  is  in  vain  the  human  heart  may  think  only 
'.his  one  little  deviation,  and  I  will  flop.  As  the  ball 
precipitated  from  the  fummit  of  a  hill  panics  not,  but 
rulhcs  with  amazing  velocity  till  it  reaches  the  very 
loweft  part  of  the  vale  beneath,  fo  the  human  foul, 
giving  way  to  temptation,  finks  from  error  into  guilt, 
nor  paufes  till  plunged  in  the  loweft  abyfs  of  depravity. 

Another  and  another  letter  from  Hamden  was  open- 
ed by  Mrs.  Varnice,  whilft  thofe  from  Rachel  (whofe 
he«rt  now  began  to  throb  with  fear,  doubt,  and  a 
thouiand  anxieties,  which  none  but  thofe  who  are 
united  to,  and  fuffering  an  early  reparation  from,  the 
man  of  their  choice  can  conceive)  fuffered  the  fame 
fate.  At  length  one  arrived  incloling  a  bank  bill  for 
a  hundred  pounds.  At  the  fight  of  it,  Mrs.  Varnice 
turned  pale  ;  fear  was  the  firll  emotion  of  her  bofom. 
But  not  even  Lettuce  was  privy  to  the  receipt  of  this 
letter.  Mrs.  Varnice  was  net  very  economical  ;  a 
hundred  pounds  would  relieve  her  from  tome  lew  em- 
barrailmenta.  She  looked  at  it,  paufed  for  a  moment, 
at  length,  committing  the  letter  to  the  fire,  fhe  depof- 
itcd  the  note  in  her  pocket-book,  and  on  the  enfuing 
morning  exchanged  it  at  a  /ilk  meicer's  where  Ihe  pur- 
chafed  a  gown  of  rofe-coloured  tabby. 

This  note  would  have  been  very  acceptable  to  Ra- 
chel;  for  fhe  began  to  be  fenfible"  of  the  decreafe  of 
her  finances,  and  to  experience  the  folicitude  and  plcal-. 
ing  cares  of  maternal  tenderncls  ;  and  to  prepare  for 
the  reception  of  a  Hi  tie  lb-anger,  fhe  had  nearly  ex- 
haufted  the  whole  of  the  money  Hamden  had  given 
her  at  parting. 

It  cannot  be  fuppofed  that  the  mind  of  Hamden 
was  in  a  much  eaiier  ftatc  than  that  of  our  heroine  ; 
but  as  he  was  now  on  a  party  cf  pleaiiire  with  his  un- 
cle, lady   Anne   and  lady   Lucy,  making    excurfiona 

from 


3ic        RETTEEN    and    RACHEL;  o% 

from  one  part  of  Scotland  to  another,  and  flaying  but 
a  few  days  in  each  place,  he  reconciled  himfelf  to  not 
hearing  from  his  wife,  under  the  idea  that   her  letters 
might  not  follow  him  as  he  directed,  and  that  he  mould- 
get  them  all  together  when    he  returned  to   Glafgow. 
JL'>ut  when   he  returned,  and  found  not  a  finglc  letter 
waiting  for  him,  he  felt  the   utmoft   impatience,   and 
■would  have  fet  off  immediately  for  London,  but  that 
his  aunt  was  attacked  with  an  alarming  fever,  and  to 
leave  her  at  forch  a  period,  would  be  the  height  of  in- 
gratitude.    She   lingered   long,   and   even  when  pro- 
nounced out  of  danger,  (till  hovered  as  it  were  on  the 
brink  of  the   grave  for  many   weeks,   and  at  length, 
change  of  climate  was  ordered  as  the  only  chance  cf 
perfect  restoration. 

Hamden,  whofc  mind  was  now  tortured  almoft  be- 
yond fuflerance,  finding  that  lie  fliculd  be  obliged  to 
attend  his  aunt  to  Liibon,  whilfl  preparations  were 
making  for  the  voyage,  difpatched  his  confidential  fer- 
vant  to  London,  to  make  inquiries  for  and  bear  remit- 
tances to  our  heroine.  Though  this  man  may  juftly 
be  termed  confidential,  yet  fo  fearful  had  Hamden- 
been  of  having  his  marriage  known,  that  even  he  was 
not  entrufted  with  the  iecret,  and  Rachel  was  humil- 
iated even  in  the  eyes  of  her  hufband's  fervant.  But 
her  manners  were  luch  as  had  ever  fecured  refpect  from. 
James,  and  the  hone  ft  fellow,  often  when  he  thought 
of  her  fituation,  pitied  her,  and  blamed  his  mafter. 

Nearly  feven  months  had  now  elapfed  fince  the  mar- 
riage of  cur  heroine,  above  five  o{  which  fhe  had  been 
Separated  from  her  hulband,  and  half  of  that  period 
had  patted  in  the  continual  diftrefs  of  alternate  expect- 
ation and  disappointment. 

"  I  have  been  deceived,"  fhe  would  fay,  whilft  tears 
of  anguifh  fiole  down  her  cheeks  ;  "  Hamden  no  long- 
er loves,  no  longer  thinks  of  me,  and,  forfaken  of  him„ 
who  is  there  in  this  vaft  univerle,  (for  Heaven  alone 
.can  tell  whether  my  dear  brother  is  in  exi(tence)  who 
then  is  there  th.it  cares  for  the  unhappy  Rachel  ?  And 
forlorn,  Forfaken,  wretched  as  I  am,  I  ihall  give  life  to 

a  helplefs, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  311 

A  helplefs  innocent,  -whofe  father  will  perhaps  blufh  to 
.own  him." 

Rachel's  days  were  joylefs,  and  the  tear  of  anguifh 
fell  nightly  on  her  pillow.  The  rofe  no  longer  bloom- 
ed on  her  cheeks,  nor  did  the  animated  beam  of  health 
and  internal  peace  dance  in  her  expreffive  eyes  ;  pales 
languid,  heart-broken,  fhe  fuffered  in  lilence  ;  for  to 
whom  could  lbe  complain  ? 

Mrs.  Varnice  had  expofe-d  to  her,  her  true  charac- 
ter, and  Rachel  would  not  hold  communication  with 
a  woman  ihe  defpifbd.  She  nurfed  her  grief  in  foli- 
tudc.  If  fhe  endeavoured  to  amulc  die  heavy  hour, 
by  her  pencil  or  muiic,  every  flower  flie  drew  was 
moiftened  by  her  tears,  and  the  chords  of  the  inftru- 
anent  reverberated  but  the  (trains  of  melancholy. 

It  was  a  fine  morning  in  the  beginning  of  March, 
•that,  ftill  confidering  it  a  duty  to  ui'e  every  method  to 
jtrcferve  health,  (though  life  was  no  longer  valuable) 
Rachel  walked  to  the  green  park.  It  was  an  early 
hour  ;  flic  did  not  fear  being  met  by  any  one  who 
hnew  her  ;  there  were  but  few  bv  whom  flic  would 
be  recognized,  and  thofe  few  feldom  vifitcd  the  park 
except  on  a  Sunday  evening,  to  fee  and  be  fcen.  As 
with  flow  ftep  (he  paced  along  the  margin  of  Rofa- 
mond's  Pond,  fhe  was  fcartled  by  a  voice  which  fud- 
denly  exclaimed,  "  Heavens  and  earth  !  Mils  Dud- 
ley !"  She  railed  her  eyes,  and  beheld  Archibald 
Oliver.  A  fudden  emotion,  fomething  like  ihamc, 
ruflied  upon  her  heart  ;  flie  jufl:  articulated  his  name, 
extended  her  hand  towards  him,  and,  tottering  to  a 
.feat  that  was  near,  flic  funk  on  it  almofl:  fainting. 

"  Good  God  !  my  dear  Mifs  Dudley,  to  what  am  I 
to  attribute  thefe  emotions  ?" 

"My  name  is  Dacres,  Sir,"   faid  Rachel ;  but  her 
voicc  faltered,  and  the  carnation  viflted  her  cheeks  a* 
ilic  remembered  her  very  apparent  fituation. 
"  You  arc  married  then  ?" 
"  Yes." 

"  May  you  be  happy,  happy  as  you  deferve.  But 
nvhy  thus  alone  ?  it  is  not  furely  proper.  Where  is 
Mr.  Dacres  >" 

The 


3i2         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or. 

The  former  intimacy  that  had  fubfifted  between  Ol- 
iver and  our  heroine  could  alone  have  excufed  thefc 
abrupt  interrogations ;  but  Rachel  had  ever  con fider- 
ed  him  as  a  brother,  and  new  ties,  new  affeclions,  hud 
made  him  behold  her  now  only  in  the  endearing  light 
of  a  filter. 

"  My  hufband  is  in  Scotland,"  faid  Rachel,  "  whith- 
er he  was  called  by  bufniefs  of  cOnfequence  ;  but 
come  (continued  fhe,  forcing  a  fmile)  if  you  are  difen- 
gaged,  walk  home  with  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  you 
wifh  to  know,  and  in  return  be  very  inquifitive  con- 
cerning your  happinefs." 

Then,  with  that  innocent  freedom  that  gave  a  charm 
to  all  her  actions,  fhe  patted  her  hand  through  his  arm, 
and  they  purfued  their  way  to  her  lodgings,  engaged 
in  fuch  intercfting  chat,  that  they  had  reached  the  door 
before  either  imagined  they  were  half  way. 

During  their  walk,  Rachel  told  as  much  of  her  own 
ftory  as  could  be  done  without  infringing  the  vow  fhc 
had  voluntarily  made  to  Aubcrry  never  to  divulge  his 
real  name  and  family  till  authorized  by  him  ;  and  in 
return,  fhe  learnt  that  Oliver  had  experienced  a  very 
tolerable  ihare  of  happinefs  in  his  matrimonial  con- 
nexions, that  his  wife  was  then  in  town,  and  had  juft 
made  him  a  father.  Of  Jefly  he  could  give  her  no 
information,  and  fince  our  heroine's  marriage,  that 
young  lady  had  declined  the  correfpondenceof  Rachel, 
alleging,  as  the  no  longer  (bared  her  confidence,  Ihe 
would  not  intrude  her  letters  where  fhe  muft  fuppofc 
them  unwelcome.  This  had  at  the  time  given  Rachel 
much  pain  ;  but  as  Hamden  would  not  allow  her  to 
explain  her  fituation  to  her  friend,  Ihe  was  forced  to 
relinquifh  a  correfpondence  ib  dear  to  her  heart,  and 
with  it  all  intercourse  with  the  only  woman  ihe  had 
ever  known  whom  Ihe  thought  really  deierved  the  name 
of  friend.  ' 

Oliver  could  not  on  that  morning  fet  above  half  an 
hour  with  our  heroine  ;  but  on  the  eniuing  day  he  call- 
ed, and  drank  tea  with  her.  After  this,  fcarce  a  day 
paifed  but  he  inquired  after  her  health.  He  faw  there 
Was  fonu-thing  of  myftery   enveloped  her;  he  law  ihe 

was 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  313 

■*w.is  not  happy  ;  and  though  his  knowledge  of  her 
heart,  undcrfianding  and  principles  made  him  reject 
the  idea  whenever  it  intruded  itfelf,  he  femetlmes  ai- 
moft  feared  il;e  had  been  impruden:. 

To  the  afflicted  heart,  the  voice  of  friendfhip  is  a 
Sbothrng  cordial.  Rachel  had  not  heard  its  adulat- 
ing found  for  fe vend  months  previous  to  her  meeting 
with  Driver.  She  dreamt  not  of  improprictv,  and, 
unaonfeious  of  evil,  dreaded  not  cenfure.  His  vifits 
were  always  welcome,  and  the  day  palled  drearily  in 
which  Hie  faw  him  not. 

It  has  been  already  remarked,  that  the  grcateft  and 
almoft  only  fault  of  our  heroine  was  a  too  great  open- 
nefs  of  diipofition,  in  regard  to  her  own  circumfhmco^ 
or  hufmefs ;  fhe  never  thought  of  concealment,  and 
nothing  but  the  mo£  unbounded  affection  for  Auberry 
could  have  prompted  her  to  enter  into  engagements 
which  would  involve  her  conduct  in  apparent  myllcry, 
attd  Oblige  her  to  wear  for  s  while  the  veil  of  conceal- 
ment. To  Oliver,  therefore,  only  concealing  his  real 
name  and  family,  die  was  explicit  in  regard  to  her 
fears  for  the  health  and  life  of  her  hufband  ;  ihe  alfo, 
without  hesitation,  mentioned  the  embarraffed  flate  of 
her  finances.  Oliver  offered  her  money  ;  but,  though 
fiic  fought  confrdation  from  the  £>othings  of  friend- 
ship, her  fpirit  role  above  pecuniary  obligation.  SlM 
was  grateful  for  the  crier,  but  firm  in  her  refufal  to 
arcail  herfeif  of  it. 

On  the  evening  wh:n  this  explanation  took  place, 
Oliver  had  flipped  with  Rachel,  and  the  hoarfe  voice 
of  the  watchmen  proclaiming  hall"  paft  eleven  o'clock-, 
•.vis  the  full  tiling  that  reminded  them  it  was  time  to 
break  off  their  intercding  conversation.  They  had 
:aihed  of  Reuben,  of  jc?hv,  and  the  doubtful  late  of 
thofe  dear  relatives  had  drawn  toare  from  boih  their 
ey<  . 

'«  I  mult  leave  you,  Mrs.  Dacres,"  faid  he,  rifing 
and  taking  his  hat. 

Rachel  rang  the  bell  ;  but  no  one  anfwering,  flie 
took  tine  of  the  candles  from  the  tabic,  and  defcended 
the  ftairs  to  light  him  cut. 

D  d  «  Good 


31+         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;    ©r, 

"  Good  night,  my  dear  Madam,"  faid  he  ;  "  do  not 
ccmc  to  the  door,  you  will  take  cold."' 

"  Good  night,  Mr.  Oliver,"  faid  Rachel  ;  and  as 
he  pulled  the  door  after  him,  (he  turned  the  key,  put 
the  chain  acrofs,  and  turned  to  re-afcend  the  (lairs, 
when,  to  her  furprife,  the  parlour  door  opened,  and 
Mrs.  Varnice  appeared. 

"  Blefs  me,"  laid  Rachel,  "  I  thought  vcu  were  all 
in  bed." 

"  Oh  !   T  dare  fay  you  did,  and  hoped  it  too." 

"  Hoped,  Madam  !  I  neither  hoped,  nor  cared  ;  on- 
ly I  rang  the  hell  for  Lettuce  to  light  Mr.  Oliver  out, 
and  as  (he  did  not  anfwer  it " 

"  1  would  not  let  her  anfwer  it ;  and  let  me  tell 
you,  Mrs.  Dacres,  (if  that  is  your  name)  I  think  your 
conduct  very  unwarrantable  ;  and  if  you  mull  have 
gentlemen  viiiting  you  in  your  huftand's  abfence,  and 
Haying  till  twelve  or  one  o'clock,  you  mull  get  an- 
other lodging  ;  for  I  will  have  no  fuch  goings  on  in 
my  houfe.  Mr.  Dacres,  (as  you  call  him)  if  he  is 
your  hufoand,  will  have  no  great  reafon  to  be  pleafed 
with  your  conduct  ;  and  if  he  is  not,  why,  my  houfe 
is  a  houfe  of  good  repute,  and  the  focner  you  quit  it 
the  better." 

Fetrified  with  aftoniihment,  Rachel  could  not  an- 
fwer for  the  fpace  of  a  minute ;  at  length,  rcfentment 
conquering  her  fenfibility,  fhe  replied  : 

"  Had  I  fuppofed  you  entertained  fuch  humiliating 
ideas  of  me,  Madam,  I  would  not  fo  long  have  re- 
mained an  inmate  in  your  habitation  ;  but,  painful  as 
it  is  to  me,  I  (hall  be  neceffitated  to  flay  fome  little 
time  longer  till  I  can  difchargc  my  account  with  you. 
I  lhall  not  leave  a  houfe  whilfl  1  am  indebted  to  the 
miftrefs  of  it." 

"  No,  I'll  take  care  of  that,"  faid  Mrs.  Varnice,  with 
a  malicious  grin ;  "  I  lhall  hardly  let  you  go  in  my 
debt  when  1  can  detain  any  valuable  property  to  the 
amount.  But  I  (hall  fay  no  more  to-night,  to-mor- 
row you  mud  look  out  for  another  place,  and  pay  mc 
how  yon  can  ;  for  paid  I  will  be,  or  you  mull  take 
the  confcquencc,  and  fo  good-night." 

Rachel 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         jif 

Rachel  would  have  faid  good-night,  but  the  words 
ftuck  in  her  throat  ;  fhe  {lightly  inclined  her  head,  and 
paffing  haftily  up  flairs,  funk  almoft  fainting  on  the 
nearcft  feat.  Lettuce,  who  had  been  tutored  by  Mrs. 
Varnice,  followed  her  up,  pretended  to  blame  h:r 
coufin,  and  take  the  part  of  our  heroine. 

"  I  will  not  flay  in  the  houfc,"  laid  Rachel,  "  but 
how  to  raife  money  to  pay  her."  •> 

*  Dear  !  that  would  be  no  difficult  matter,"  friiu 
Lettuce,  "  fo  many  pretty  trinkets  as  you  hare  !  Thcfe 
bracelets  now " 

Rachel  looked  on  them  and  fighed. 

M  I  cannot  part  with  them,"  faid  file,  **  they  were 
the  firfl  prefent  I  received  from  my  hufbar.d." 

Well,  but  you  have  fuch  a  vaft  number  of  pretty 
things,  your  watch  and  your  etwee  ! — " 

This  convcrfation  let  our  heroine  into  a  fecret  with 
which  fhe  was  before  entirely  unacquainted — that  fhe 
could  raife  a  fum  of  money  on  thefe  baubles  without 
entirely  parting  with  them  ;  and  fhe  went  to  bed  with 
a  full  determination  to  quit  the  manfton  where  fhe 
had  been  fo  much  infulted,  the  enfuing  morning.  It 
may  well  be  fuppofed  fhe  flept  but  little  ;  fhort  mo- 
ments of  forgetfulnefs,  and  thofe  interrupted  by  hor- 
rid vifions,  were  all  fhe  could  obtain. 

At  the  dawn  fhe  arofe,  and  fo  earneflly  did  fhe  fet 
about  a  removal,  that  by  twelve  o'clock,  fhe  had  paid 
the  exorbitant  demands  of  Mrs.  Varnice,  and  was 
feated  in  her  new  lodgings  ;  though  to  accomplifh 
this  point  fhe  had  difpofed  of  almoft  every  thing  of  val- 
ue fhe  poffeffed,  not  excepting  the  bracclctsF4i^vvhich 
(lie  had  cxprefled  fo  much  regard. 

Two  days  after  this  removal,  James  arrived,  com- 
miflioned  by  his  mailer  to  make  inquiry  after  our  he- 
roine. The  tale  told  by  the  arch-fiend,  Mrs.  Varnice*, 
filled  his  honeft  heart  with  horror. 

"  Receive  the  vifits  of  gentlemen,  obliged  to  leave 
the  lodgings  in  which  his  mafter  had  placed  her,  and 
go  into  others,  on  account  of  keeping  bad  hours,  and 
other  diforderly  behaviour.  Good  Sirs,"  faid  James, 
I  can  hardly  believe  it ;  fhe  was  fo  good,  fo  modeft, 

fo 


316        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

fo  mild.  It  made  one's  heart  glad  to  look  at  her :  ana 
to  hear  her  talk,  would  a  made  an  old  man  young  again. 
Body  o'  me  !  there  muft  a  been  feme  witchcraft  uicd 
to  make  her  change  fo  all  of  a  iudden." 

But  to  all  James's  inquiries  of  where  flie  was  re- 
moved to,  i hey  pleaded  ignorance ;  and  he  being  rellricl- 
ed  in  the  time  allowed  him  to  make  the  journey,  could 
not  ftajr  fo  long  as  he  wilted  to  make  inquiries  in  the 
i—'i'dibomhood.  With  a  heavy  heart,  he  iet  forward 
on  :ils  return  to  his  mailer;  bat  near  Berwick,  (he 
carriage  v&is  bveriet  in  which  he  was  travelling,  and" 
his  right  arm  broken. 

ILinul.n,  agonised  aim  oft  to  diilraetion  by  his  long 
abfence,  the  caufe  of  whicli  he  was  not  acquainted 
with,  (as  a  fever  nr.d  delirium,  which  immediately 
fucceeded  the  accident,  prevented  James  iiom  taking 
any  method  to  let  his  mailer  know  his  lituaticn)  was 
obliged  to  embark  with  his  aunt,  without  receiving 
the  leail  intelligence  of  the  fate  of  Rachel. 

'.She  has  forgotten  me,  ihe  repents  Ler  union  with 
me,'  he  would  lay,  •  and  feeks  for  an  opportunity  to 
break  thofe  engagements  which  T  have  heiitatcd  to 
announce  to  the  world.' 

In  thefe  moments  ho  would  be  ready  to  reveal  all 
to  his  aunt ;  but  the  fear  that  Rachel  no  longer  loved 
him,  or  perho]  s  was  no  longer  worthy  of  Ids  affection 
for  her,  always  withheld  him  ;  and  the  voyage  to  Lif- 
bon,  though  in  itfelf  extremely  pleafant,  feemed  to 
the  unhappy  Hamdento  teem  only  with  vexation,  and 
when  landed,  and  the  fir  ft  buftle  of  feeking  a  lodging, 
&c.  was  over,  he  walked  through  the  ftreets  like  a  dii- 
contented  fhade  ;  indeed,  it  was  but  the  lhadow  c  f 
Kamuen  Aubcrry,  for  his  better  part  was  flown  to  the 
mores  of  Albion,  where  it  hovered  round  the  manfion- 
in  which  he  imagined  flill  dwelt  the  obje&  of  his  dear- 
eft  affection. 


CHA?. 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  317 

CHAP.      XV. 

Sorrows    of   the    Heart. 

N  the  mean  time,  the  afflictions  of  our  heroine  dai- 
ly increafed.  Oliver  had  loft  London  ;  (he  was 
without  friends  and  without  money,  and  to  incrcafe 
the  forrows  of  her  heart,  (he  became  the  mother  of  a 
line  boy  about  the  middle  of  June.  Before  her  con- 
finement, (he  cntrufted  her  hodefs  with  the  real  Hate 
of  her  finances,  and  to  retrench  her  cxpenfes,  had  ta- 
ken a  room  on  the  fecond  (lory,  where  (he  differed  in 
filence  all  the  miferies  of  difappointed  love,  added  to 
the  poignant  ding  of  poverty.  Once  Hie  wrote  to 
Mrs.  Auberry  ;  had  ihe  addreffed  the  letter  to  Dr. 
Lenient,  ihe  had  done  right.  But  Mrs.  Auberry  had 
received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Webfter,  which  h  id  prej- 
udiced her  ag.iiiut  Rachel ;  (he  therefore  did  not  men- 
tion to  her  brother  that  iiie  had  heard  from  her,  and 
threw  the  letter  into  a  draw,  without  deigning  to  give 
our  diftrefffcd  heroine  the  comfort  of  one  line  in  anfwer. 

During  her  confinement,  Ihe  was  told  by  the  wom- 
an who  attended  her,  that  a  a  ery  line  lady  had 
taken  the  range  of  apartments  on  the  firft  floor,  which 
confided- of  a  dining-room,  drawing-room,  and  bed- 
chamber  ;  that  Ihe  had  taken  them  only  for  a  few 
weeks,  whilft  her  own  houfe  was  finilhed  and  properly 
■urniihed.  "  She  is  a  charming  lady,"  faid  the  talk- 
alive  old  woman,  "and  keeps  her  chariot,  her  own 
maid  and  footman." 

All  this  intelligence  appeared  of  (b  little  confe- 
rence o  our  heroins,  that  Ihe  fcarcely  heard  a  f)  lia- 
ble of  the  whole  harangue  ;  but  the  next  day,  as  (he 
was  paffing  from  the  bed  to  the  fpfa  at  the  otlier  cr.d 
of  the  room,  (he  call  her  eyes  cafually  out  of  the  win- 
dow ;  an  elegant  chariot  drew  up  to  the  door,  and  to 
her  utter  aftonilhment  die  faw  Mrs.  Courtney  defcend 
from  it. 

Lod  in   amazement,   fhe  fat   down  ;  that  her  eyes 

had  not  deceived  her,  (he  was  certain.     To  what  could 

Dd2  ihe 


318         REUBEN   a*d    RACHEL;  or, 

fhe  attribute  this  fudden  elevation  cf  fortune  ?  "i 
was  a  riddle  fhc  had  not  power  to  unravel  ;  but  what- 
ever was  the  caufe,  fhe  rejoiced  at  the  eiTecl,  and,  for- 
getting the  coldnefs  ihe  hud  experienced  from  La  Ya- 
rone  immediately  after  her  marriage  with  Lieutenant 
Courtney,  conftious  only  of  a  ploafurable  fenfation, 
to  rind  a  peril  >n  with  whom  Hie  had  formerly  lived  in 
habits  of  intimacy  fo  near  her,  the  wrote  with  a  pen- 
cil on  a  flip  of  paper, 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Courtney,  your  friend  Rachel  is  again 
an  iamate  of  the  modioli  you  inhabit,  and  flatters  her- 
felf  you  will  give  her  the  plcafure  of  your  company 
for  half  an  hour." 

This  billet  (he  fent  by  the  nurfe,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments Mrs.  Courtney  entered  the  apartment.  The 
attendant  withdrawn,  and  a  few  common-place  inqui- 
ries part, 

"  Yoti  cannot  think,  my  dear  Madam,"  faid  our 
heroine,  "  what  real  plcafure  it  gives  me  to  find  Mr. 
Courtney's  profpecls  fo  much  amended,  iiuce  your 
marriage." 

"  Yes,  he  is  made  a  Captain  ;  btfides,  a  particular 
friend  of  mine,  whom  i  had  not  {e<:n  for  many  years-, 
has  fettled  on  me  a  very  handfome  income,  which 
makes  me  quite  independent." 

"  How  fortunate  !''  iiiid  Rachel  in  the  f  mpJictty  of 
her  heart.     "  And  where  is  Captain Couitney  i" 
«  Cone  to  India." 

"  Is  either  of  ycur  fifters,  or  your  mother-in-law  in 
tf  wn  with  you  :" 
«  Oh  dear  no." 
t*  They  are  well,  I  hope  ?" 

M  Yes,  quite  well ;  that  is,  I  believe  fo,  for  I  have 
heard  nothing  to  the  contrary,  but  I  have  not  fecn. 
them  lately." 
««  No  ?" 

**  No,  not  for  thefe  three  months  paft.  But  come, 
tell  me,  my  demure  friend,  what  changes  have  taken 
place  in  your  fate  fince  we  parted." 

With  a  look  of  mingled  confufion  and  candour,  in 
t&£  (iPW^  language  of  truth  did  Rachel  explain  to 

Mrs. 


TALES    9F    OLD    TIMES.  319 

Mrs.  Courtney  every  circumftance  of  her  marriage 
and  confequent  uneafmeis,  ftill  concealing  the  real 
name  of  her  huiLand. 

She  fpoke  to  a  woman  whofe  heart  was  impure, 
and  who  fcrupled  not  to  judge  of  others  by  herfelfi 
Befidea,  Mrs.  Courtney  had  been  to  viiit  Mrs.  Web* 
fter,  and  had  learnt  from  her  the  manner  of  our  hero- 
ine's departure  from  her  houfe,  and  with  whom  it  was 
fuppofed  lhe  refided.  She  laughed  at  the  affliction 
Rachel  appeared  to  evperience  frcm  her  hufband's 
neglect,  called  her  agony  of  heart  ideal  miiery,  told 
her  the  honey  moon  could  not  lafl:  forever,  bid  her 
keep  up  her  lpirits,  and,  promiiing  to  fee  her  again  in 
the  evening,  left  her.  Accordingly,  in  the  evening 
(he  again  vihted  her. 

11  1  have  been  thinking,  Mrs.  Dacrcs,"  faid  flie  with 
a  h ilf  fmile,  and  looking  fidelong  from  under  her  d.u  k 
«yelalhcs,  "that  change  of  fcene  and  air  would  be  of 
fervice  to  you.  I  am  going  into  Northumberland,  to 
vifit  our  old  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Spriggins  ;  what  lay 
you  to  a  jaunt  ?  You  will  travel  at  your  eaie  with  me 
in  the  chariot,  Pelham  will  help  take  care  of  the  child, 
and  I  dare  lay  the  journey  will  not  be  the  lefs  agreea- 
ble bccaule  it  will  take  you  near  the  borders  of  Scot- 
land." 

A  tinge  of  carnation  palled  over  the  languid  cheek 
V)f  Rachel,  as  lhe  faid  lhe  Ihould  like  Inch  an  e:-:cur« 
fion,  but  it  was  not  in  her  power  to  take  it. 

"  What,  for  want  of  money,  I  luppole  ?  Pdraw  ! 
nonfenie  !  you  cannot  be  wholly  deftitute  ;  a  trifle  will 
ierve,  and  you  furely  wifh  to  be  nearer  the  Major  than 
you  are  at  prefent." 

Rachel's  heart  beat  quick,  as  lhe  attempted  to  re- 
ply. Mrs.  Courtney  put  her  Hand  before  her  mouth, 
'•  Come,  don't  deny  it ;  I  have  found  out  your  fc- 
cret,  but  I  won't  betray  yea.  Perhaps,  when  you  are 
within  a  day's  journey,  he  may  be  able  to  viiit  you. 
London  is  at  a  vaft  diitance  from  the  banks  of  die 
Clyde." 

There  is  nothing  more  difficult  to  a  perfon  of  nat- 
ural veracity  than  to  be  under  the  neceffity  of  alfcrt- 

inc 


520        REUBEN    /.nd    RACHEL;  or, 

ing  a  wifehood.     Rachel  felt  the  impoffibility  of  do- 
ing  it,  and  remained  Glent.     In  fhort,  her  innocence, 

her  credulity,  her  ardent  v.  ifh  to  be  near  her  hulband 
prevailed)  and  the  contented  to  accompany  Mrs.  Court- 
ney into  Northumberland.  But,  however  liable  to  err 
from  the  fcanknefs  and  candour  oilier  temper,  Rachel 
liad  lliil  that  pride  of  foul  which  could  not  condescend 
to  veil'  Mrs.  Courtney  that  three  guinea-,  and  a  few 
clothes,  coaflituted  tJie  whole  of  her  worldly  poiTeffions. 
Part  of  thofe  clothes,  with  feme  Aery  fine  laces,  were 
fed  of  to  pay  the  nurfe  and  other  contingent  cx- 
penfes  ;  and  with  a  mere  trifle  in  her  purfe,  our  hero- 
ine departed  with  her  unworthy  affociate  from  London. 

I  Irs.  Courtney  was  deceived  when  fhe  invited  Ra- 
chel to  take  this  journey  with  her  ;  but  it  was  the  de- 
pravity of  her  own  heart  had  deceived  her,  and  before 
ihe  reached  Northumberland,  ihe  difcovered  that  the 
mind  of  our  heroine  was  ftill  uncontarninated,  Itill 
pure,  and  fhrunk  from  vice  v.'ith  difgufi,  turned,  from. 
immorality  with  abhorrence. 

On  their  arrival  at  Mr.  Spriggins's,  Mrs.  Courtney 
was  received  v.  ith  a  profufion  of  compliments,  whiiit 
Rachel  was  fcarcely  noticed,  the  was  ihown  to  an 
upper  apartment,  and,  weary  as  fiie  was  with  the  jour- 
ney, fufTered  to  undrefs  the  child  herfelf,  and  put  him 
to  bed.  She  laid  him  on  the  pillow  of  lcpofe,  and, 
kneeling  befide  the  bed,  poured  forth  her  afflicted  foul 
to  her  Maker-  Her  cheek  relied  on  the  fame  pillow 
villi  that  of  her  infant,  and  her  tears  flowed  without 
re  drain  t.  She  felt  that  the  pretended  friendfhip  of 
Mis.  Courtney  was  only  orientation  ;  flie  feared  Ihe 
hid  more  to  fufFer  than  Ihe  fnould  be  able  to  fupport. 
She  prayed  for  resignation  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  and 
her  tears  continued  to  flow,  not  from  impatience,  they 
were  the  effufions  of  an  afflicted  fpirit. 

After  a  few  weeks  refidence  in  the  family  of  Mrs. 
Spriggins,  Rachel  peiceivcd  that  not  even  a  lhadow  of 
ieipcct  and  attention  towards  herfelf  remained  in  the 
manners  of  the  whole  family.  At  meals,  fhe  was  fuf- 
fered to  take  tiie  loweft  feat  at  the  table,  where  ihe  was 
ibnienm:s  fo  totallv  overlooked,  as  >.ot  to  be  helped 

till 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         $11 

till  every  one  elfe  had  begun  their  dinner  ;  and  then 
(he  was  infuked  by  an  affectation  of  friendly  familiar-' 
ky,  fuch  as,  "  Blefs  me,  Mrs.  Dacies,  I  had  forgot 
you  ;  but  why  don't  you  fpeak  ?  yo.i  ,uc  at  home  you 
know." 

At  thefe  moments,  Rachel's   heart  would   fwell  to 
her  eyes,  and  in  ftruggling    to  fuppvcfs   her  tear  . 
food  ilu  attempted  to  f wallow  fsejared  alrfcoft  to  choak 
her. 

•;.  Courtney  d.:i  d  her 

woman,  and  the  next  <.\.iy  re,  1  heroine  to  rife 

from  her  feat,  anil  fetch  her  work  from  the  other  end 
of  the  room.  Had  Rachel  been  independent,  ihe 
would  without  hefitaticn  have  complied  with  the  re- 
quell  ;  but  Rachel  was  poor,  and  Ihc  felt  the  request 
an  infult. 

"  I  am  not  qualified  to  fupply  the  place  of  your 
fcrvant.  Madam,"  faid  ihe  haughtily. 

"  Why  I  do  not  fuppofe  you  are,"  faid  Mrs*  Court  - 
ney,  yawning  indolently  ;  "hut  indeed,  child,  e'trcum- 
itanced  as  you  are,  I  do  not  know  what  you  could  do 
better  than  endeavour  to  get  a  place  }  though  to 
be  fure  your  child  is  an  objeetiofu" 

The  expreffive  eyes  of  our  heroine  P.afhrd  indigna- 
tion, at  the  infolent  manner  and  propofal  of  her  oiten- 
tatiuus  friend  ;  but  ihe  difdained  to  aniwer.  •  I  am 
not  yet  fallen  quite  fo  low  a*  that,'  thought  fhc,  and 
rofe  to  quit  the  apartment. 

"  I  really  am  forry  for  you,  child,"  continued  Mrs. 
Courtney,  detaining  her,  "  but  painful  as  it  is  for  a 
perfon  who  is  i'o  much  interceded  for  your  welfare  as  i 
am  to  fpeaS  dt&greeablc  truths^  T  really  mud  tell  you, 
that  (he  haughty  airs  you  gjwe  yrurillf  are  very  un- 
becoming ;  you  muft  learn  humility." 

"  I  hope  1  ihall  in  time,"  (aid  Rachel  indignantly, 
"  if  I  do  not,  I  iliall  profit  but  little  by  your  endeav- 
ours." 

"  Come,  com;,   you    miiunderfland  me  ;   if  y< 
not  incline  to  do  fofficthhlg  for  a   livelihood,    I  I 
think  it  would  be  advheable  for  yon  to  go  on  to  Scot- 
land to  your  hufoand.     I  expect  a  friend  of  rain 

in 


322         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

in  a  few  days,  with  whom  I  am  going  to  make  a  tour 
through  the  northern  counties  ;  if  you  choofe  to  go 
with  me  in  quality  of  a  companion,  and  take  the  care 
of  my  clothes,  afflft  me  to  dreis  and  undrefs,  I  will 
pay  you  twenty  guineas  a  year  ;  but  then  you  mud 
leave  your  child  here  at  nurfe." 

"  No,  Mrs.  Courtney,"  faid  Rachel,  "  if  I  am  obliged 
to  eat  the  the  bread  of  fervitude,  1  will  earn  it  of  ftran- 
gcrs,  not  of  one  who  once  thought  herfelf  honoured 
in  being  called  the  friend  of  Rachel  Dudley.'  I  will 
be  the  humble  companion  (or  rather  a  flave  on  which 
ill  humour  may  be  laviihed  with  impunity)  to  no  one. 
1  would  gladly  embrace  youi  firft  propofal  of  ieeking 
}ny  huiband,  but  you  know  I  have  not  the  means  of 
profecuting  the  journey,  even  by  the  cheaped  convey- 
ance." 

"Heavens  and  earth!"  replied  Mrs.  Courtney, 
with  a  look  of  well-affecled  furprife,  "  is  it  poflible  you 
can  have  come  into  this  ltrange  place  without  any 
money  ?    And  what  do  you  mean  to  do,  child  ?" 

"  To  be  no  longer  troublelcme  to  you,  Madam," 
faid  Rachel.  "  I  thank  you,  Madam,"  continued  lhe, 
"  for  the  ihelter  your  roof  has  fo  long  afforded  me," 
turning  to  Mrs.  Spriggins,  who  had  fat  a  filent  and 
infenfible  fpectatrefs  or  the  fcen-%  "  but  will  no  longer 
intrude  ;  but  this  very  night  remove  to  a  habitation 
better  fuited  to  my  prcftnt  humble  condition." 

She  then  haftily  left  the  room.  On  the  flairs  flic 
met  Belle  Wonder. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Mrs.  Dacrcs  ?"  faid  die  ;  for 
the  tears,  which  a  laudable  pride  had  reftrained  whild 
ihe  was  in  the  prefence  of  her  infolent  hodefs  and  her 
companion,  wounded  fenfibility  forced  in  a  torrent 
frem  her  eyes  the  moment  flie  had  ihut  the  door. 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  faid  Belle. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  our  heroine, "  only  I  have  flayed 
here  too  long." 

"  Dear  !  I'm  afraid  fifter  has  been  vexing  you ; 
well,  don't  mind  her,  you  know  lhe  never  was  veiy 
good  natured." 

-"I  do 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         323 

**  I  do  not  mind'  cither  her  or, her  aflbciate,"  faid 
Rachel  ;  "  but  I  wiih  to  releafe  them  from  an  unwel- 
come intruder,  and  ihall  leave  the  houle  immediately. 
Do  me  the  favour,  Mifs  Webfter,  to  requeft  one  of  the 
fervants  may  take  my  trunk  to  the  inn." 

"  Dearec  me  !    I  hope  you  are  not  in  earned  ?" 

"  In  very  eameft,  I  allure  you." 

"  Well,  now  I'm  quite  ferry." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mifs  Wcbiter.  Will  you  art;  the 
favour  I  rcqueft  ?" 

"  Oil  1  to  be  lure  I  will  ;  but  you  won't  go  before 
tea  ?" 

"  Before  another  hour,"  faid  Rachel  firmly. 

Belle  was  not  ovcrburthened  with  underflanding  ; 
foe  did  not  perfectly  comprehend  the  delicacy  of  our 
heroine's  feelings,  nor  did  (he  give  herfclf  the  trouble 
to  think  much  about  it  ;  fo  wilhing  her  health,  fhe  de- 
feended  the  flairs,  and  fent  up  a  boy  to  take  her  trunk. 
It  was  between  four  and  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
when  Rachel,  taking  her  dear  boy  in  her  arms,  and 
followed  by  the  lad  with  her  parcels,  left  the  houfc  of 
Mr.  Spriggins,  and  went  to  leek  a  lodging  in  a  town, 
to  almoft  every  inhabitant  oi  which  ihe  was  a  perfect 
itranger.  She  knew  that  the  public  inns  afforded 
lodgings  to  travellers,  and  to  one  of  the  mnft  reputable 
of  thefe  fhe  directed  her  lteps.  Her  purfe  was  but  flen- 
derly  provided,  but  flic  augmented  her  little  ftorc  by 
the  fale  of  a  gold  locket,  the  Lift  thing  of  value  which 
fhe  portefred,  and  from  which  fhe  took  a  lock  of  plaited 
hair  ;  for  it  was  the  hair  of  Hamden  Auberry,  and  to 
her  a  thoufand  times  more  precious  than  the  metal 
in  which  it  had  been  enfhrined. 

On  the  following  morning,  fhe  inquired  after  a  pri- 
vate lodging,  and  was  recommended  by  the  woman 
who  kept  the  inn,  to  a  meant  apartment  in  one  of  the 
moll  unfrequented  ftreets  in  the  town.  To  this  hum- 
ble afylum  fhe  retired,  and  felt  a  degree  of  melan- 
choly pleafure  that  fhe  could  indulge  her  tears  with- 
out reftraint. 

It  may  occafion  fome  degree  of  furprife,  that  Sprig- 
gins,  who  had  formerly  been  an  admirer  of  our  hero- 
ine, 


334        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or., 

inc,  would  fuffer  her  to  leave  his  houfe  without  either 
friends  or  money  ;  but  the  heart  by  nature  contracted, 
and  whofe  chief  object  has  been  felt",  is  fenilbly  aflect- 
ed  by  an  agpcaramre  of  flight ;  ir  can  never  either  for- 
get or.  forgive  it ;  and  fuel)  a  lieart  languidly  .moved 
in  the  bofom  of'  Spriggins. 

But  thole  viftfors,  who  had  feen  Rachel  in  the  fam- 
ily, and  now  miffed  her,  felt  an  awakened  cnriofity  to 
know  what  was  become  oi'  her.  To  theft  interroga- 
tories had  the  Mefdames  Spriggins  and  Courtney  (im- 
ply anfwered,that  flie  was  gone  home  ;  cnriofity  would 
have  died,  but  they  felt  they  had  done  wrong  in  driv- 
ing her,  poor  and  unprotected  as  (he  was,  from  their 
houfe  ;  and  in  palliation  of  fo  inhuman  an  action, 
lhrew  afperlions  .on  her  character.  Not  content  with 
depriving  hei  of  the  protection  of  their  own  roof,  they 
prevented  her  obtaining  that  protection  from  any  oth- 
er, whofe  inmates  were  in  the  fmalleft  degree  resect- 
able. 

That  the  human  heart  is  liable  to  error,  and 
on  the  eternal  record  our  crimes  and  follies  arc  cn- 
',  and  will  one  day  appear  in  dreadful  judgment 
againft  us,  is  a  folemn  truth,  which  no  perfon  oi  ccrtl- 
unfc  will  attempt  to  deny ;  yet  wc  are  led  to 
hope,  that  the  tear  of  unfeigned  penitence  will  blot 
rhofe  offences  out.  But  the  crime  of  flander  rs  of  fo 
foul  a  die,  its  fable  hue  fiains  the  facred  page,  and  on- 
ly mercy  infinite  can  purify  it.  Oh  thou  Giver  of  life, 
guard,  I  befeech  thee,  my  heart  from  ingratitude, 
and  my  lips  from  (lander  :  and  for  the  reft,  thy  will 
be  done. 

During  the  period  of  thefe  vicrfiitudes,  Rachel  had 
never  omitted  writing  every  week  to  her  hufoand,  on- 
ly at  the  time  when  the  birth  of  her  fori  prevented  her. 
Thefe  letters,  written  after  (lie  left  the  houfe  of  Mrs. 
V.irnice,  all  lay  at  the  ptace  where  he  had  defired 
them  to  be  addreffed  ;  and  when  James  was  fufTicient- 
ly  recovered  to  follow  his  mafter,  he  made  them  into 
a  parcel,  and  took  them  with  him. 

Bat  words  arc  inadequate  to  defcribe  the  feelings 
of  Harnden,  when  lie  by  turns  liftened  to  the  account 

which 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         325 

■which  James  gave  him,  and  read  the  pathetic  letters 
of  his  wife ;  lomctimes  love,  fometime*  refentment 
predominated.  But  when  he  read  that  he  was  a  fath- 
er, and  that  his  once  loved  Rachel,  in  that  feafon  of 
ficknefs,  was  without  the  means  to  purchafc  the  nccef- 
fary  accommodations  and  comforts  to  render  the  fitu- 
ation  in  fome  meafure  fupportable,  he  determined  to 
hazard  every  thing,  own  his  marriage,  and  rly  to  her 
relief  and  comfort. 

Hamden  was  ever  impetuous ;  lie  rclblved  one  mo- 
ment, and  the  next  put  the  refolvc  in  execution.  La- 
dy Anne  heard  him  with  mere  calmnefs  than  he  had 
expected  ;  but  that  apparent  calm  was  deceitful  ; 
when  he  had  iinifhed,  fhe  upbraided  him  with  his  du- 
plicity, imprecated  mifcry  on  both  himfclf  and  his  wife, 
s:m\  with  a  determined  air  renotinced  him  forever. 
In  vain  was  every  endeavour  to  foftcn  her  refentment, 
and  Hamden  embarked  for  England,  without  the 
Imallefl  hope  of  being  reinftated  in  her  affection,  or  of 
ever  being  the  better  for  her  fortune. 

Mortified  pride,  love  and  jealoufy  corroded  in  his 
bofom  during  his  lhort  voyage;  and  on  his  arrival  in 
London,  he  repaired  immediately  to  the  houfeof  Mrs. 
Varnice  ;  ft  r  though  Rachel  had  mentioned  her  re- 
moval, yet  lhe  had  forgot  to  mention  the  name  of  the 
itreet  to  which  flic  had  removed  ;  and  though  ilie  was 
difpleafed  with  Mrs.  Varnice,  yet,  as  (he  did  not  know 
the  extent  of  that  woman's  vilenefs,  lhe  (poke  of  her 
no  farther  than  to  fay  lhe  had  reafon  to  think  both 
Hamden  and  herfeif  had  been  miftaken  in  her  char- 
acter. TJiis  was  not  fuflicient  to  deter  Hamden  frcm 
going  to  her  honfe,  clpeeially  as  lie  conceived  it  the 
only  probable  means  of  finding  Rachel.  But  this 
vifit  did  not  ferve  to  conciliate  his  affection,  or  awaken 
returning  tendernels.  Mrs.  Varnice  told  her  own  tale. 
Our  poor  heroine  was  reprcfented  as  imprudent,  if  not 
guilty,  in  regard  to  Oliver  ;  extravagant  and  thought- 
lei's,  in  her  cspeiUe-. 

"Why  indeed,"  fiid   Aubcny,    "I  thought    I  left 

her  lufTnfcnt  to  defray  evby  expenfe   till  my  return  ; 

E  e  and 


jj6         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

and  when  I  found  my  ftay  protracted  beyond  mr  ex- 
pectations, I  forwarded  her  a  hundred  pounds." 

"  Well,  who  could  have  thought  it  ?"  faid  Mr?. 
Varnice  ;  "  before  flic  left  me,  ihc,  to  my  certain 
knowledge,  raifed  money  on  her  watch,  rings,  brace- 
lets." 

«!  Bracelets  ?"  faid  Hamden. 

"  Oh  yes  !   Lettuce  pledged  them  for  her." 

"  Cruel,  unkind  Rachel !" 

M  Dear  !  don't  let  it  diftrefs  you  fo  ;  I  fuppofe  her 
young  friend  Oliver  helped  her  off  with  fome  of  the 
money." 

"Damn  him!"  faid  Hamden.  "Oh!  Rachel, 
Rachel,  why  have  you  ufed  me  thus  ?  Oh !  Mrs. 
Varnice,  if  you  knew  how  I  loved  her,  how  I  adored 
her  !  how  at  this  moment  her  fafcinating  image  twines 
around  every  chord,  every  fibre  of  my  heart !  you 
would  wonder  how  Ihc  could  be  fo  ungrateful,  fo  vile, 
fo  barbarous." 

Alas  !  weak,  credulous  Auherry,  had  you  inflcad 
of  liftening  to  this  woman's  infamous  afperfions,  treat- 
ed them  with  fcorn,  and  boldly  aiferted  the  innocence 
of  your  wife,  and  your  full  confidence  in  her  truth  and 
honour,  her  accufer,  confeious  of  her  own  guilt  and 
duplicity,  would  have  retired  intimidated  within 
hcrfelf,  and  flirunk  from  a  fcrutiny,  from  whence  ihc 
mud  have  been  allured  her  own  f  alfehood  would  ftand 
detected.  But  who  will  efpoufe  the  caufe  of  an  in- 
jured wife,  when  he  who  has  folemnly  fworn  to  pro- 
tect her  from  all  evil,  liftens  with  avidity  to  the  voice 
that  defames  her,  and  joins  with  her  worft  enemies  to 
precipitate  her  into  the  abyfs  of  ignominy. 

From  the  houfe  of  Mrs.  Varnice,  Hamden  went  to 
the  lodging  fhe  had  laft  occupied,  and  there,  from  a 
converfttion  with  the  woman  of  the  houfe,  learnt  the 
route  Rachel  had  taken,  and  with  whom  ;  but  un- 
fortunately, he  alfo  learnt  that  flie  had  been  vifited 
almoft  daily  by  Oliver,  during  the  period  of  his  ftay 
in  London.  Tortured  almoft  to  madnefs,  he  rcfolved 
to  follow  her,  upbraid  her  with  her  perfidy  arrd  cruelty, 

oblige 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  327 

oblige  her  to  relinqnifh   the  care  of  the  child  to  him, 
and  take  an  everlailing  leave  of  her. 

In  the  mean  time,  our  heroine  was  drinking  very 
deeply  of  the  cup  of  affliction  ;  poverty  was  her  con- 
Aant  companion.  The  trifle  fhe  poflefied,  at  the  time 
ihe  left  the  houfe  of  Spriggins,  was  loon  expended, 
and  by  degrees  the  remains  of  her  wardrobe  dwindled 
away,  till  two  cotton  gowns,  with  a  change  of  linen, 
were  the  whole  of  her  earthly  poflcflions.  She  had 
inquired  for  work,  bju|  could  get  none.  The  dearth 
of  amufement  in  a  country-town  makes  every  trifle, 
if  wearing  the  appearance  of  novelty,  become  of  con- 
fequence  ;  and  what  fprcads  falter  than  a  tale  ot  lean 
dal  ?  The  circumflancc  of  our  heroine's  coming  from 
London  to  Mr.  Spriggins,  and  quitting  the  houfe  i'o 
abruptly,  had  been  talked  over  in  almolt  every  family 
in  the  place,  told  a  hundred  different  ways,  and  each 
narrator  adding  or  altering  fomc  circumilance,  poor 
Rachel  was  looked  upon,  even  by  the  woman  of  whom 
Ihe  rented  her  fmall  apartment,  as  a  fufpicious  char- 
acter ;  and  had  fhe  been  inclined  to  partake  the  pleaf- 
ures  of  fociety,  fhe  would  have  found  the  doors  of  al- 
moft  every  clafs  of  people  fhut  againft  her.  But  fhe 
had  frill  the  confolation  of  an  innocent  heart,  and  a 
firm  faith  and  reliance  on  an  omnifcient  Deity,  who 
would  not  fuffer  her  eventually  to  periih.  She  lub- 
mitted  to  her  afflictions  as  to  the  wile  difpenfations  cf 
his  providence,  and  prayed  daily  for  a  more  humble, 
more  unrcpining  fpirit.  She  was  entirely  ignorant 
alio,  that  any  itigma  had  been  thrown  on  her  repu- 
tation, and  confeious  of  not  deferving,  fhe  feared  not 
the  cenfures  of  a  world,  which,  though  fhe  would  not 
wilfully  offend,  ihe  was  but   little   folicitous  to  pleafe. 

The  neglect  of  Auberry  funk  the  deepeft  into  her 
heart,  when  her  thoughts  reverted  to  the  few  happy- 
weeks  pad  in  hij  fociety  immediately  after  their  mar- 
riage. The  tear  of  bitter  remembrance  would  gulh 
from  her  eyes,  and  as  fhe  pre  fled  her  infant  to  her 
heart,  it  bled  at  every  vein,  that  he,  as  well  as  her- 
fclf,  fhould  be  fo  totally  abandoned  by  his  father. 

It 


.U8         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

It  was  one  evening  in  Auguft,  when  Rachel,  hav- 
ing lulled  her  darling  to  fleep,  the  twilight  rtill  giving 
fufficient  light,  took  her  tablets  from  her  pocket,  and, 
as  ihc  leaned  over  a  window  lhe  had  juit  opened  lo 
gaze  at  the  fercnity  of  an  evening,  that  lccmcd  to  give 
pleafure  to  the  whole  creation  but  her  forlorn,  unhap- 
py fclf,  wrote  with  her  pencil  the  following  lines  : 

When  the  frame  to  the  earth  is  bent  low, 

By  ficknefs  or  forrow  oppreft  ; 
Whin  the  moments  drag  penfive  and  flow, 

And  the  heart  it  lies  cold  in  the  breail  ; 

When  each  focial  comfort  is  fled, 

Nor  friend  nor  companion  is  near  ; 
When  reft  has  forfakcr.  the  bed. 

And  the  pillow  is  ftain'd  with  a  tear  : 

Ah  !  then,  what  avails  each  gay  feene 

Which  Nature  unfolds  to  our  light  ? 
In   vain   Phebus  rifes  ftrene, 

Or  Cynthia  enlivens  the  night ! 

In  vain  is  yon  canopy  fpread 
Thus  gorgeous,  with  fapphire  ani  gold, 

When  each  fenfe  of  pleafure  is  fled. 
And  each  fond  affection  lies  Sold  ! 

Hafte,  Apathy,  hafte  thee,  and  bring, 

With  poppies  infufed  in  the  bowl, 
A  drnngtt  from  the  Lethean  fpring 

To  ftcep  in  oblivion  my  foul. 

Thy  f.ible  ftole  pafs  'fore  mine  eyes, 

That  when  pale  afHi&icn  I  view. 
"No  fljades  cf  paft  pleasures  may  rife 

To  fharpen  her  arrows  anew. 

But  come,  with  thy  fenfe-nur,ibi;»g  power, 

Aflat  me  thofe  arrows  to  brave  ; 
Nor  leave  me  till  that  happy  hour, 

When  I  fink  to  repofe  in  the  grave  ! 

When  fhc  had  finilhed,  the  full  fenfe  of  her  own  de- 
plorable fituation  rufhed  upon  her  mind  ;  flic  refted 
her  head  upon  her  hand,  and,  unable  to  weep,  a  kind 
of  ftupor  pervaded  all  her    lenfes  ;    and  fo  entirely  ab- 

foibcJ 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  329 

forbed  was  fhe  in  her  own  agonizing  reflexions,  that 
ihe  was  as  perfectly  loft  to  every  furrounding  object 
as  if  fhe  had  been  no  longer  in  exiftence.  From  this 
reverie  (he  was  aroufed  by  the  cry  of  her  child,  and  in 
her  hafte  to  let  down  the  window,  (he  dropped  her 
tablets.  It  was  an  awkward  circumftance  ;  for  the 
window  looked  into  a  garden  belonging  to  a  genteel 
houfe  that  was  in  another  ftreet.  It  was  therefore 
impoffible  to  regain  them  that  night  ;  but  lhe  refolved 
to  go  early  the  enfuing  morning  to  inquire  for  them  ; 
for  they  had  formerly  belonged  to  her  mother,  and 
were  on  that  account  highly  valued  by  Rachel. 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning,  as  foon  as  (he  im- 
agined ihe  could'gain  admittance,  ihe  took  her  child 
in  her  arms,  and  walked  round  to  the  front  of  the 
houfe.  The  door  was-  opened  by  a  decent  young 
woman,  and  Rachel  was  beginning  to  fpeak,  when, 
turning  her  eyes  toward  a  parlour,  the  door  of  winch 
flood  partly  open,  fhe  faw  Archibald  Oliver,  drefled 
in  deep  mourning,  fitting  at  a  breakfaft  table,  and 
holding  the  identical  tablets  fhe  came  to  inquire  for, 
in  his  hand.     She  was  furprifed — fhe  was  filent. 

"  Did  you  wifh  to  fee  my  miftrefs,  Ma'am  I"  faid 
the  young  woman. 

u  Yes  \"  faid  Rachel,  hardly  confeious  that  fhe  had 
anfwercd  at  all. 

There  was  fomething  in  the  air  and  manner  of  our 
heroine,  that,  had  lhe  been  clothed  in  the  meaneft  ap- 
parel,would  ft  ill  have  commanded  rcfpecl.  The  young 
woman  paired  before  her,  and  courtelying  as  ihe  puih- 
ed  open  the  parlour  door,  deiired  her  to  walk  in,  and" 
fhe  would  call  her  miftrefs  immediately.  At  the  found 
ot  approaching  fteps,  Oliver  raifed  his  eyes. 

"  Good  God  !    Mrs.  Dacres  !"   exclaimed  he. 

Rachel  was  fluttered  ;  fhe  could  -not  fpeak.  A  lan- 
guid fmile  illumined  her  pallid  countenance  a«  flie  ex- 
tended her  hand  towards  him.  But  the  expreflive 
tear  that  burft  from  its  gliftening  orbit,  contradicted 
the  appearance  of  tranquillity  the  fmile  was  meant  to 
convey. 

E  e  2  "  How 


REUfcSN    and    RACHEL;  o*u 

«'  How  is  it,  Mr.  OHver,"  faid  ihe,  when  (he  could 
command  her  voice,  "  that  1  fee  you  here  :" 

"  A  very  unhappy  circumftance  brought  me  and 
ftill  detains  me  here,"  he  replied.     Rachel  glanced 

her  eye  over  his  fable   drefs,     Jefly    darted  into   her 
mind. 

«  Your  filler  f  laid  The  eagerl) . 

"  Is  well,"  interrupted  he,  at  once  comprehending 
her  tears,  at  leall  I  have  no  reafon  to  think  to  the 
contrary  ;  but  Mrs.  Oliver  is  no  more." 

His  voice  faltered  ;  Rachel  was  filent  ;  fhe  knew 
the  folly  and  impertinence  of  common-place  confola- 
tion.  Oliver  recovered  himfelf,  and  having  learnt 
from  our  heroine  every  occurrence  that  had  taken 
place  iince  he  faw  her  in  London,  he  in  return  in- 
formed her,  that  friendlhip  for  a  very  particular  ac- 
quaintance of  her's  had  brought  him  to  that  place — 

"  An  acquaintance  of  mine  ?"  faid  Rachel. 

"  Yes,  Lieutenant  Courtney." 

"Courtney  !  You  aftoniih  me;  I  thought  he  was 
t^one  to  India." 

"  He  had  an  appointment  of  that  kind,  which  was 

procured  him  by   lord  M ;  but  fome   difcovcrics 

which  he  made  after  he  had  even  joined  his  fhip,  and 
had  received  failing  orders,  compelled  him  to  quit  his 
appointment,  throw  up  his  commilhon,  and  follow  his- 
unprincipled  wife  to  this  place.  Lord  M.  has  a  feat 
at  Alnwick,  which  is  only  a  fhort  ride  from  hence, 
and  Courtney  having  obtained  fufficient  teltimony  of 
her  depravity  and  his  own  difhonour,  came  to  me, 
and  afked  my  advice  in  what  manner  he  fhould  pro- 
ceed. See  your  wife,  faid  I,  and  remonftrate  with 
her.  I  will  go  with  you.  He  feemed  inclined  to  fol- 
low my  advice,  and  we  rode  together  toward  this 
place.  When  we  had  proceeded  a  few  miles,  we  faw 
&  chariot  and  four  driving  furioufly  along  ;  the  live- 
ries befpoke  it  the  equipage  of  lord  M.  Courtney  no 
fooner  faw  it,  than,  clapping  fpurs  to  his  horfr,  he  gal- 
lopped  front  me,  and  before  I  could  get  up  with  him, 
had  popped  the  carnig*:  in  whkh  was  Mrs.  Court- 
ney 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         331 

oey  and  his  Lordftiip.  The  irritated,  impetuous  hul- 
band  had  dragged  the  Ignoble  peer  from  the  carriage, 
and,  drawing  a  cafe  of  piftols,  prefented  him  one, 
whilft  with  the  Other  he  prepared  to  defend  himlelf, 
when  (,ne  of  the  footmen  itiuek  him  acrofs  the  head 
with  the  end  of  a  whip,  and  he  fell  lifelefs  to  the 
ground.  Lord  M.  fprang  into  his  carriage  again  and 
drove  off,  leaving  me  With  my  fervant  to  take  what 
care  we  could  of  poor  Courtney.  V/e  were  nearer 
this  place  than  we  were  to  Alnwick,  and  placing  him 
on  the  horfe  before  John,  with  great  difficulty  we  got 
him  here.  This  houfe  is  kept  by  a  woman  who  nurf- 
ed  my  wife  ;  and  as  I  thought  he  would  be  quieter 
and  better  attended  here  than  in  a  public  inn,  I  had 
him. brought  hither.  The  wound  on  his  head  is  deep, 
but  the  furgeon  does  not  think  him  in  fo  much  dan- 
ger from  the  efFecl  cf  that  as  from  the  violent  pertur- 
bation of  his  mind. 

Rachel  liltened  with  aftonifliment  to  this  detail,  and 
was  fo  entirely  abforbed  in  reflection  on  the  ftrange 
incidents  Oliver  related,  that  when  the  midrefs  of  the 
houfe  entered,  and  requefled  to  know  what  her  com- 
mands were,  ihe  had  totally  forgotten  the  circum- 
stance that  had  brought  her  to  the  houfe.  She  hefi- 
tated,  blufhed ;  at  length,  calling  her  eyes  on  the 
breakfall  table,  lhe  faw  the  object  of  her  inquiry  ;  but 
the  confciculhe's  of  her  embarrafled,  awkward  appear- 
ance, fo  increased  her  confulion,  that  the  inquiries  lhe 
made  for  her  tablets  had  more  the  appearance  of  fub- 
terfuge  than  truth.  However,  the  maid  having  men- 
tioned that  Mr.  Oliver  had  picked  them  up  in  the  gar- 
den, they  were  delivered  to  our  heroine,  who,  having 
exprefled  a  defire  to  fee  Courtney,  and  promifed  to  re- 
turn in  the  afternoon  for  that  purpofe,  took  her  leave. 
Now,  though  Rachel  did  not  know  five  pcrfons  in 
the  neighbourhood  where  (he  dwelt,  even  by  fight,  yet 
fhc  was  herfelf  known  by  every  individual  in  it ;  and 
her  embarrafled  and  helitating  manner,  added  to  a 
knowledge  o£  the  evil  reports  which  were  circulated 
concerning  her,  led  the  woman  where  Oliver  lodged, 

to 


332         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or., 

to  imagine  fhe  came  to  vilk  him,  or  C  .  as  fhe 

feemed  lo  perfectly  .tcqnuinted  with  both. 

In  the  afternoon,  Rachel  determined  to  f^e  Court- 
She  had  no  idea  that  impropriety  could  he  an- 
nexed to  a  vilit  which  Ihe  conceived  to  be  an  act  of 
duty  ;  and  when  ihe  found  him  i'o  extremely  ill  as  to 
need  the  molt  conilant  and  tender  attention  ;  when 
fhe  discovered  that  it  was  in  her  power  to  i'oothe  his. 
afflicted  heart,  and  fmooth  the  bed  of  pain,  by  an  ex- 
ertion of  friendly  afhduity  :  forgetting  every  thing  but 
that  Ihe  had  once  been  under  obligations  to  him,  (he 
refolved  herfelf  to  be  his  attendant  till  he  fhould  re- 
cover flrength  fufficient  to  enable  him  to  return  to  his- 
mother  and  filters.  Thus  every  morning  Hie  repair- 
ed to  the  chamber  of  the  lick  man,  nurfirig  him  with- 
the  affection  of  a  lifter,  and  administering  to  him  the 
confolation  of  a  friend. 

Mrs.  Spriggins  and  her  unprincipled  guelt  were 
mean  enough  to  employ  their  fervants  to  inquire  in 
the  neighbourhood  after  our  heroine,  and  be  conftant 
fpies  upon  her  actions.  That  fhe  v.;>s  often,  nay,  al- 
moft  continually  at  the  houfe  where  Oliver  was,  and 
where  Courtney  lay  lick,  they  were  allured  of;  and 
though  they  knew  that  fhe  conftantly  returned  to  her 
folitary  apartment  to  her  meals,  which  were  fcanty 
enough,  and  that  fhe  was  always  at  home  at  an  early 
hour  in^he  evening,  yet  they  failed  r.ot  to  attribute  to 
motives  the  mofl  degrading  to  the  fox,  a  conduct  which 
was  the  refidt  of  pure  benevolence,  and  did  honour  to 
her  heart,  however  it  proved,  that  her  head  was  not  too 
much  (cored   with  worldly  prudence  and   knowledge.  . 

Things  were  exactly  in  this   fituation,   when  Ham- 
den  Auberry  arrived  in  ft  arch  of  a  woman,   whom,  . 
one  moment,  he  was  ready  to  kneel  and  worfhip,  and 
the  next,  to  call  down  everlafting  wrath  upon  her. 

It  may  eafily  be  imagined,  that  the  itory  told  by 
Mrs.  Spriggins,  Mrs.  Courtney  and  family  did  not 
tend  to  foften  his  heart  towards  her  ;  fo  far  from  it, 
he  poured  forth  a  torrent  cf  execrations,  and  vowed 
never  to  fee  her  more.  But  when  he  had  returned  to 
his  inn,  and  mufed  a  few  moments,  he  thought  he 

would 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         33J 

would  fee  her  once  more,  u^  her,  and  bid  her  an 

everlasting  farewel ;  he  had  lefirnt  in  what  quarter  ot 
the  ^own  ine  lodged,  and  at  the  dufk  of  the  evening 
went  to  the  houfe  and  inquired  for  her.  She  was  not 
at  home.  At  eight  o'clock  he  called  again  ;  it  ill  fhe 
was  not  returned.  Having  obtained  a  direction  to 
the  houfe  where  lie  was  told  file  fpent  evert  day,  and 
having  allured  himfelf  that  was  the  refidcnce  of  Oliver, 
he  determined  to  keep  watch  before  the  door,  and 
be  himfelf  an  eye-witnefs  o{  her  leaving  it,  and  at 
what  hour.  Long  and  wearifome  was  the  night,  and 
horrible  were  the  feelings  of  Aubciry.  About  twelve 
o'clock,  he  determined  to  leave  her  to  her  fate,  and 
return  with  all  fpeed  to  London  ;  but  before  he  had 
reached  the  inn,  defire  of  revenge  impelled  him  to  re- 
turn. *  1  will  tear  her  from  the  anus  of  Oliver,'  faid 
lie,  '  and  wreak  my  vengeance  on  both  her  and  her 
paramour  ;'  but  then  the  memory  of  his  child  eroded 
his  imagination,  and  with  it  the  fond  recollection  ot 
what  the  mother  was  when  he  fifft  knew  her  ;  a  flood  ot 
tendcrnefsrufhedover  his  foul,  and  he  wept like  an  infant. ' 

In  this  diftracted  manner  did  Aubcrry  pafs  the  night, 
and  the  dawn  of  day  found  him  fitting  on  the  fteps  of  a 
dooroppofite  to  the  lodgings  of  Oliver.  He  roll' from 
the  cold,  damp  feat,  and  with  a  heavy  heart  was  giv- 
ing a  la  It  look  at  the  houfe,  when  the  door  opened 
gently,  and  Rachel  herfelf,  with  her  child  in  her  arms, 
came  out. 

Though  during  the  whole  night  Hamden  had  fup- 
pofed  his  wife  was  there,  yet  fomcthing  like  hope  had 
fometimes  led  him  to  think  he  might  have  been  deceiv- 
ed, and  fhe  might  iliil  be  innocent  ;  but  this  ocular 
proof  was  beyond  all  doubt.  Re  reeled  againft  a  poll, 
daggered  and  fell. 

Rachel  faw  him  ;  but,  wrapped  in  a  coarle  great 
coat  which  he  had  borrowed  at  the  inn,  with  his  hat 
flapped,  it  was  impofiible,  by  the  faint  glimmer  of  the 
twilight,  fhe  ihould  know  him  ;  ihc  imagined  it  to  be 
an  inebriated  perfon,  juft  endeavouring  to  return 
home  ;  and  fearful,  fhould  fhe  be  obferved  by  him  at 
that  early  hour,  that  he  might  in  fbmc  rcfpecl  or  other 

bo 


334         REUBEN    and    RACHEL.;   or, 

be  rude  to  her,   flic  .1   her   fteps,   and  before 

Auberry  was  fuflicicntly  recovered  to  i'peak  or  rife 
from  the  ground,  (he  was  out  of  fight,  and  in  a  few 
moments  reached  her  own  habitation.  A  little  girl, 
who  was  up  on  fiome  particular  occahon,  kt  her  in, 
and  fhe  threw, herfeif  on  in,  hopes  to   obtain 

fome  repofe,  while  Auberry  returned  to  the  inn,  pen- 
ned a  hafty  letter  to  her,  which  he  left,  with  orders  that 
it  fhould  be  fent  by  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  He 
then  ordered  a  chail'e  and  four,  and  proceeded  with 
all  the  rapidity  of  fuch  a  conveyance  to  London,  fel- 
dom  flopping  even  for  reirefhrnent,.  as  though  he 
thought,  by  the  velocity  oi  the  movement,  to  leave 
his  cares  behind,  or  leil-  the  remembrance  of-  them?  by 
attending  to  the  various  objects  that  palled  in  cpukk 
fucceffion  before  him. 

In  the  mean  time,  Rachel  had  enjoyed  about  two- 
hours  fleep,  and  felt  herfeif  greatly  refreshed  ;  for  the 
fatigue  and  anxiety  of  the  night  had  exhaufted  both 
her  fpirits  and  ftrength.  She  had  attended  as  ufual 
the  day  before  at  the  bedfide  of  Courtney  ;  towards 
noon  he  had  arilen,  and  was  removed  for  the  benefit 
of  the  air  into  an  adjoining  apartment,  and  placed  in 
an  eafy  chair  near  the  window.  The  noife  of  horfes 
drew  his  attention  towards  the  fireet.  He  looked  out, 
and  faw  his  wife,  accompanied  by  lord  M.  on  horfe- 
back,  attended  by  two  fervants  in  rich  liveries.  She 
railed  her  eyes,  faw  the  emaciated  figure  of  her  hul- 
band,  pointed  him  out  to  her  diffolute  companion, 
and  both  bur  ft  into  a  loud  laugh.  Courtney  was 
unequal  to  the  fhock  ;  he  attempted  to  fpeak,  but  his 
voice  failed  him  ;  he  gafped,  groaned,  and  fell  to  the 
floor.  Alarming  faintings  fucceeded  each  other,  and 
he  was  reduced  to  fuch  a  ftate  of  weaknefs,  that  the 
medical  gentleman  who  attended  him  imagined  it  al- 
moft  impoffible  that  he  fhould  live  through  the  night. 
Was  id  poffible  for  Rachel  in  fuch  a  fituation  to  leave 
him  ?  No  !  She  had  not  been  treated  with  fufficient 
refpeel  by  the  miftrefs  of  the  houfe  where  fhe  lodged, 
to  make  her  think  it  neceffary  to  fend  any  meflage  to 
her  concerning  he.r  ftaying  out,  or  her  reafons  for  fp, 
duil  g.  Towards 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  335 

Towards  morning,  Courtney  fell  into  a  quiet  fleep, 
and  Oliver  entreated  Rachel  to  retire,  and  endeavour 
to  take  fome  repofc.  Acting  from  motives  the  moft 
pure  and  even  commendable,  without  a  thought  or 
wilh  in  the  fmalleft  tittle  derogatoiy  to  virtue,  Rachel 
had  no  appreheniion  of  incurring  cenfure  from  any. 
How  furprifed  was  ihe  then,  on  awaking  in  the  morn- 
ing, to  read  the  following  note,  which  was  brought 
to  her  by  the  little  girl  who  had  let  her  in. 

"  Mifstrefs  Dakirs,  ater  the  adventer  of  Iaft  nitc,  you 
cant  lUppos  I  will  fuller  you  to  flay  any  longer  in  my 
oufe,  wich  is  a  oneft  oufc  ;  and  furdcrmore,  I  docs 
not  expect  you  to  go  without  paying  me  every  fardin 
of  what  you  oes  me.  You  mull  go  meditly,  as  I  doe-; 
not  want  women  of  your  fort  in  my  oufe  no  longer." 

Rachel  was  really  fo  totally  unconfeious  of  evil, 
that  flic  was  at  a  lofs  to  think  what  the  woman  meant 
by  "  the  adventure  of  laft  night  ;"  but  going  to  her  to 
inquire,  was  fo  overwhelmed  with  abuie,  that,  weeping, 
trembling,  almoft  fainting,  flic  retreated  from  the 
houfe  leaving  every  thing  behind  her  to  fatisfy  the  ra- 
pacity of  her  inhuman  landlady. 

As  (he  was  going  out  of  the  door,  flic  met  the  porter 
with  her  hufband's  letter.  She  took  it,  broke  the 
feal,  and  read  that  he  had  been  there,  that  he  had  fecn 
her,  that  he  believed  her  loft  to  \irtue,  and  that  he 
abandoned  her  forever.  Overcome  by  i'enfationr,  the 
moft  agonizing,  (he  fat  down  on  the  fteps  of  the  door. 
The  letter  remained  open  in  her  hand  ;  her  eyes  were 
riveted  to  it,  and  only  that  flic  breathed,  flic  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  ftatue  of  fixed  and  mute  defpair. 
How  long  flie  would  have  remained  in  this  fituation 
is  uncertain,  or  whether,  finking  into  infenfibility,  flic 
would  not  have  loft  all  confeioufnefs  of  her  mifery» 
had  not  the  woman  with  the  diabolical  malice  of  a  fiend 
opened  the  door,  and  bade  her  begone  from  the  itep. 
Aroufed  from  her  lethargy  of  grief,  flic  arofe,  folded 
her  child  to  her  bofom,  and  bowing  her  head  in  meek 
refignation,  the  for  rows  of  her  heart  found  vent  at  her 
eyes,  and  lhc  obeyed  in  iilence. 

And 


336        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  on, 

And  what  was  there,  in  this  moment  of  anguifh,'  to 
fupport  the  finking  fpirits  of  our  affli-ftcd  heroine  ? 
Confctous  innocence !  And  whilft  humbled  to  the 
very  duft,  fhe  could  look  up  with  hope  and  confidence 
to  Him  who  is  a  rock  of  defence  to  the  injured,  a  fure 
help  to  thole  Who  truft  in  him. 

Wounded  pride  would  have  firfl  impelled  her  to 
hide  herfelf  from  Oliver,  as  fhe  difcovcrcd,  from  the 
unconnected  fcrawl  left  by  Aubcrry,  that  it  was  of 
him  he  was  jealous,  and  had  it  been  only  for  herfelf 
that  Hie  was  intereiled,  ihc  would  mod  likely  havefuf- 
fered  every  degree  of  mifery  before  me  would  have 
afked  relief  of  any  one  ;  but  her  child,  the  Ion  of  Au- 
bcrry, the  lawful  heir  to  large  pofTeffions,  for  his  fake 
ilie  was  refolved  to  ftifle  her  feelings,  and  endeavour 
to  convince  his  cruel  father  that  he  had  injured  her  in 
the  moil  unwarrantable  manner. 

She  therefore  went  immediately  to  his  lodgings, 
and  calming  her  perturbed  fpirits  as  much  as  ihc 
poifibly  could,  thus  addreli'ed  him  : — "  Mr.  Oliver,  I 
am  neceffitated  to  requefl  the  loan  of  a  few  guineas, 
at  the  fame  time  that  I  tell  you  i:  is  more  than  prob- 
able I  may  never  be  able  to  repay  yon.  Something 
has  taken  place  this  morning,  which  obliges  me  in  fu- 
ture to  forbear  feeing  yon,  or  giving  any  farther  at- 
tendance on  our  unfortunate  friend." 

"  Good  heavens  !"  faid  Oliver,  itruck  with  her  pale 
countenance,  fwollen  eyes  and  evident  agitation  ; 
"what  can  be  the  matter?  Wherever  you  are  going, 
do  not  refVe  me  the  fatisfaction  or'  knowing,  that  [ 
may  be  able  to  aillil,  protect,  comfort,  be  a  brother  to 
you." 

"  It  is  impoffible,"  faid  fhe,  "  the  world  will  not 
fuffer  it." 

He  comprehended  the  meaning  of  her  words,  nnd 
without  reply  tendered  her  his  purfe.  She  took  five 
guineas  from  it,  and  then  requeuing  to  iee  Courtney, 
of  whom  ihe  took  a  lilent  leave,  fhe  departed,  leaving 
Oliver  aftonilhed  and  affected  at  her  conduct.  He 
muled  a  few  moments,  and  then  thinking1,  however 
ligid  propriety  might   forbid  her  to  vifit  the  houfe  be 

inhabited, 


TALES    of  OLD    TIMES.         337 

•inhabited,  or  receive  vifits  from  him,  yet  it  did  not  for- 
bid him  following  and  difcovering  her  retreat,  where 
he  might  fupply  her  with  all  the  necefTaries  and  com- 
forts of  life.  He  matched  his  hat,  and  rufhed  into  the 
ftreet  ;  but  he  was  too  late  ;  Rachel  was  no  longer  in 
fight,  nor  could  he  difcover  which  way  ihc  had  gore. 

Our  heroine  walked  to  a  poor  cottage  about  a  mil 
from  the  town,  inhabited  only  by  an  old  woman  and 
her  daughter.  Here  (lie  agreed  to  board  at  a  very 
low  rate  for  a  few  days,  and  then  fat  down  to  write 
to  her  hufband.  She  endeavoured  to  explain  circum- 
Jlances  that  appeared  fuipicious  ;  but  to  think  that 
Auberry  fufpe&ed  her  honour,  gave  her  fuch  inex- 
prellible  angniili,  that  flie  was  frequently  obliged  to 
lay  down  her  pen  and  weep.  At  length  lhe  huifned, 
earnefily  conjuring,  if  not  for  her  own,  yet  for  his 
child's  fake,  he  would  fend  her  fome  relief,  nor  fufrer 
them  to  expire  with  want,  or  langnifh  out  their  lives 
in  poverty  and  obfeurity. 

This  letter  lhe  dircclcd  to  a  eoffee-houfe  in  London, 
which  lhe  knew  he  frequented,  and  requeuing  an  an- 
fwer  to  be  directed  to  the  pod-office  at  Newark,  lb* 
left  her  infant  in  the  charge  of  her  old  hoftefs,  went 
herfelf  and  put  her  own  letter  in,  inquiring  at  the  fame: 
time  when  lhc  might  expect  an  anfwer. 

When  lhc  returned  to  her  humble  home,  fatigue,  an- 
guilh  of  heart,  and  the  violent  emotions  flie  had  ex- 
perienced during  the  day,  had  fo  far  overcome  her, 
that  lhe  went  to  bed  much  indiipofed,  and  after  a. 
night  of  reftlefs  agitation,  lhe  awoke  from  a  morn 
(lumber  fo  ill,  as  to  be  unable  to  rife. 

From  that  time,  a  period  of  three  weeks  was  a  to- 
tal blank  to  Rachel.  A  fever,  accompanied  by  a  de- 
lirium, brought  her  to  the  verge  of  the  grave;  but  the 
tenderriefs  of  her  good  old  hoftefs  and  her  daughter, 
co-operating  with  a  naturally  good  confutation,  and 
the  attendance  of  a  fkilful  man  of  medicine,  at  length 
triumphed  over  the  diforder,  and  fhe  returned  to  life 
and  a  renewed  fenfe  (flier  forrovs. 

The  firft   tiling  lhc   thought  of  was  her  expelled 

letter.     .She  difpatched  the   voting   cottager  to   New- 

F  f  ark 


53$         REUBEN    akd    RACHEL;  or, 

ark  to  inquire  for  it  ;  fhe  returned  empty  handed  ; 
there  was  no  letter  there.  Thus  day  after  day  parted 
on.  The  five  guineas  Rachel  had  borrowed  of  Oli- 
ver were  totally  expended  during  her  illncfs,  and  no 
letter  arriving  from  her  hufband,  fhe  was  once  more 
pennylefs,  but  not  totally  fricndlefs.  The  poor  inhab- 
itants of  the  cottage  were  Cbrijiiam.  Had  fhe  been 
ftained  with  a  thoufand  errors,  they  would  not  have 
thought  it  right  to  remember  them  when  lhc  was  bow- 
ed to  the  earth  by  affliction.  Their  whole  poffeffions 
were,  the  cottage,  a  fmall  garden,  a  cow  and  two  fpin- 
riing  wheels  ;  but  they  dried  the  tear  from  her  eyes  by 
the  voice  of  kindnefs,  and  told  her  fhe  ihould  be  wel- 
come to  fhare  their  humble  fare  till  returning  health 
enabled  her  to  join  their  labours  for  fubfiftence,  if 
nothing  better  offered.  During  her  illncfs,  the  old 
cottager  had  found  Auberry's  letter,  and  wifhing  to 
gain  fome  intelligence  concerning  her  family,  had  pe- 
rufed  it. 

"  She  may  be  guilty,"  faid  fhe,  "  but  I  have  no 
right  to  judge  her.  She  i^  iick  and  afflicted  ;  it  is 
therefore  my  duty  to  nurfe  and  comfort  her."  She 
then  returned  the  letter  to  the  pocket  from  whence  fhe 
took  it,  nor  even  after  Rachel's  recovery  did  fhe  fuffer 
her  to  imagine,  by  any  word,  look  or  hint,  that  fhe  had 
feen  it. 

As  foon  as  Rachel  had  gathered  flrength  fufficient 
to  enable  her  to  attempt  it,  with  flow  and  uneven  fteps 
fhe  proceeded  to  Newark,  determined  to  make  inqui- 
ry herfelf  concerning  a  letter  ;  for  fhe  thought  it  im- 
poilible  for  Auberry  to  abandon  her  and  his  child  to 
abfolute  want. 

She  went  to  the  office,  and  was  told  no  fuch  letter 
vvas  there.  "  Are  you  certain,  Sir  ?"  faid  fhe  ;  "  it 
inuft  have  been  here  fome  time,  if  it  is  here  at  all. 
Pray  look  amongft  the  letters  that  lay  in  the  office  ; 
it  is  of  more  confequence  to  me  than  you  can  imag- 
ine. It  is  di reeled  to  Mrs.  Dacres,  to  be  left  here  till 
called  for." 

A  young  man  hearing  her  repeat  the  name  of  Da- 
urned  over  a  parcel  of  letters-,  and  prefentcd  to 

the 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         339 

the  trembling  hands  of  our  heroine  the  long-expected 
cpiftle  from  her  hufband. 

Rachel  opened  it  ;  a  hundred  pound  bank  note 
dropped  from  it !  She  attempted  to  read  it,  but  a 
mill  came  over  her  eyes  ;  ihe  reeled,  and  would  have 
fallen,  but  the  young  man  caught  her.  He  called 
for  water,  and  an  interior  door  opening,  a  young 
woman,  very  plainly  habited,  rufhed  out,  fupported 
and  prefFed  to  her  befom  the  lifeleis,  inanimate  form, 
calling  on  her  to  revive  by  the  tender  name  of  friend, 
he*  dear,  unhappy  Rachel.  Life  foon  revilited  her 
lips  and  cheeks  ;  ihe  opened  her  eyes,  and  found  hcr- 
i'df  in  the  arms  of  Jeffy  Oliver. 

Leaning  on  the  arm  of  this  dear  friend,  and  hardly 
daring  to  truft  her  fenfes  left  it  lhould  prove  an  illu- 
fion,  Rachel  retired  into  a  fmall,  neat  parlour,  where 
ihe  foon  regained  fufficient  compofure  to  perufe  her 
letter.  It  was  fhort,  and  the  conclufion  of  it  almolt 
annihilated  her.     It  was  as  follows. — 

My  adored  Radii, 

THERE  is  fuch  an  appearance  of  candmir  and 
fmcerity  throughout  your  whole  letter,  that  I  cannot 
but  believe  you  innocent  ;  prove  yourfclf  io,  and  on 
the  receipt  of  this  come  immediately  to  London,  and 
prepare  to  follow  my  fortunes  to  foreign  climes.  Our 
marriage  is  no  longer  a  fecret  ;  my  aunt  has  difcard- 
ed  me.  I  have  fold  my  commiffion,  and  in  the  def- 
pafr  I  felt  at  your  perfidy,  have  taken  paffage  on  board 
a  veflel  bound  for  Philadelphia.  If  you  love  me  as 
you  fay,  and  as  I  would  fain  think  you  do,  you  will 
not  hefitate  to  leave  England  forever,  fince  it  is  for 
my  peace  of  mind  that  I  fhould  do  fo.  I  cannot  fub- 
mit  to  live  in  it  below  the  rank  I  have  been  accuftom- 
ed  to  fill.  If  your  affection  leads  you  to  be  the  com- 
panion of  my  voyage,  the  fharer  and  foother  of  all  my 
cares,  I  fhall  regret  neither  fortune  nor  country.  If 
not,  if  fome  ftronger  attachment  binds  you  to  this  fpot, 
Oh  Rachel !  I  cannot  bear  the  thought ;  but  fhould 
it  be  k>,  why  the  farther  we  are  divided  the  better. 

"  lnclofed 


34,o         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  m, 

"  Inclofcd  I  imagine  is  a  Arm  fufficient  to  difchi 
any  debts  you  may  have  contracted,  and  bring  you  to 
London.  If  you  come,  1  ftiall  expect  to  ice  you  in 
ten  days  from  the  date  of  this  letter.  If  not,  fareweJ 
forever  ;  we  meet  no  more  on  this  fide  eternity,  and 
[  will  ftrive  if  poffible  to  forgpt  you. 

HA'MDEN  AUBERRY." 

Rachel  referred  to  the  date  of  the  letter  ;  it  had  been 
written  near  a  month.  "  Then  he  is  gone  !  left  mc 
forever  !  and  thinks  mc  the  moil  depraved  of  women," 
faid  ihe  ;  and  her  emotions  became  ib  violent,  that  in 
her  prefent  debilitated  ftate,  Mils  Oliver  feared  fhs 
would  have  fallen  into  fits  ;  at  any  rate,  fhe  thought 
it  necefiary  to  take  her  home,  and  procuring  a  car- 
riage, (lie  herfelf  accompanied  her  to  her  lowly  hab- 
itation. By  the  way  (he  talked  her  into  fomething 
like  compomre ;  fhe  learnt  every  circumftance  that 
had  taken  place  fince  their  ieparation. 

Convinced  of  the  purity  of  our  heroine's  heart,  that 
her  motives  had  been  always  right,  though  her  con- 
duct had  been  Ibmetimes  directly  contrary  to  the  rigid 
rules  cY  prudence,  fhe  felt  all  her  affection  for  her  re- 
vive ;  and  taking  her  hand  when  fhe  had  finifhed  her 
detail,  fhe  cried,  "Well,  Mrs.  Auberry,  (as  we  ihall 
henceforth  call  Rachel)  in  return  for  the  confidence 
you  have  repofed  in  rnc,  I  will  tell  you  my  ftory.  It 
is  a  verv  Ample  one,  without  one  romantic  or  extra- 
ordinary incident. 

"  When  I  left  London,  I  recollected  an  old  fchool 
fellow  1  had  at  this  place,  of  whofe  fenfe  and  discre- 
tion I  had  a  very  high  opinion  ;  to  her  I  repaired,  and 
through  her  means  fettled  the  method  of  correfpond- 
ing  with  you  and  Archibald,  alfo  the  means  of  receiv- 
ing a  fmall  yearly  income,  which  I  poifciled  inde- 
pendent of  my  father.  I  then  threw  afide  the  fine 
lady  entirely,  aflumed  the  plain  attire  you  fee  me  now 
wear,  and  with  it  a  fimplicity  of  manners  that  might 
be  likely  not  to  betray  my  real  rank  in  life.  I  then 
procured  an  apartment  at  a  farm-houfe,  that  is  Atu- 
atcd  in  a  moil  delightful   though  very  folitary  valley, 

about 


TALES    or    OLD    TIMES.         341 

about  three  miles  from  hence.  I  purchafeel  a  few 
books,  with  materials  for  needle-work,  and  diverfified 
my  tirhe  with  reading,  working,  and  taking  necefiary 
exerciie.  The  productions  of  my  needle,  through  my 
friend  were  fent  to  London  and  fold,  increafmg  my 
little  income  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  afford  me  all  the 
comforts  of  life.  I  heard  of  my  brother's  marriage, 
and  of  his  refidence  fo  near  me.  I  longed  to  fee  him  ; 
but  was  too  proud  to  think  of  throwing  myfelf  on  the 
liberality  of  his  wife,  for  I  knew  that  Archibald  him- 
felf  was  as  poor  as  I  was.  I  therefore  continued  my 
retirement  and  avocations.  I  have  frequently  thought 
of  you,  and  from  fome  accounts  which  accidentally 
met  my  ears,  was  led  fometimes  to  blame  but  oftencr 
to  pity  you. 

"  But  fliould  I  ever  return  to  the  gay  world,  my 
young  aiTociates  will,  I  have  no  doubt,  be  furprifed 
that  I  mould  have  ch-.ped  from  my  father's  houfc, 
changed  my  name,  and  iecluded  myJblf  above  a  year 
and  a  half  in  a  cottage,  yet  never  have  met  with  a 
lingle  adventure,  or  made  one  conqucft  ;  nay,  if  you 
will  believe  me,  the  impenetrable  rultics  have  entirely 
overlooked  my  beauty  and  accomplishments  ;  and 
though  I  have  appeared  regularly  every  Sunday,  when 
the  weather  permitted,  at  the  paruh  church,  the  Squire 
has  not  once  noticed  me,  and  1  have  remained  entirely 
unmolcRed. 

"  But  I  am  weary  of  this  dull  famenefs  of  fceue, 
and  you  and  I  will  now  fet  out  together  in  fearch  of 
adventures.  Tin's  mad  brained,  harum-fcarum  huf- 
band  of  yours,  though  I  think  he  little  deferves  fuch 
attention  from  us,  yet  we  will  e'en  go  after  him.  For 
if  we  fhould  not  find  him,  we  may  perhaps  find  fome- 
body  elfe  that  will  be  glad  to  fee  us." 

Rachel  comprehending  that  Jelly  meant  Reuben, 
replied  with  additional  penfivenefs,  "  Alas  !  mv  dear 
girl,  I  have  never  heard  from  my  brother  fince  lie  left 
England." 

"  So  I  understand,"  fa'id'  Jefly,   ftill  forcing  a  fmile, 

while  her  eyes  were  brimfull  of  tears  ;  "  but  I  cannot 

repveis  a  fond  hope,  which  almoft  amounts  to  a  belief, 

F  f  2  that 


5+2         REtfBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

that  be  is  ftill  in  exiftence,  and  that  we  (hall  one  day 
meet  again.  As  to  Archibald,  it  will  not  be  proper 
to  let  him  knew  of  our  defign  till  it  is  too  late  for  him 
to  overtake  and  accompany  us;  for  that  would  over- 
throw my  whole  plan  of  reconcilement  between  you 
and  Auberry.  And  Jhould  the  worft  come  to  the 
worlt,  there  is  it  ill  my  little  annuity  ;  we  will  live  to- 
gether, my  dear  Rachel,  in  humble,  but  contented  in- 
dependence. What  our  income  will  not  procure,  in- 
duftry  (hall  fupply.  Wc  will  ftudy  to  fulfil  the  duties 
of  our  lowly  Ration,  and,  enjoying  the  fweet  coniola- 
tion  of  an  approving  confeience,  hold  the  trifling  mul- 
titude, that  is  in  general  termed  the  nvor/.f,  in  fo  little 
dtimution,  a.s  neither  to  court  its  (miles  or  fear  its  cen- 
fures." 

This  was  a  plan  too  agreeable  to  the  feelings  of  Ra- 
chel not  to  be  immediately  doled  with.  This  re-com- 
mencement of  friendfhip,  with  a  perfon  fo  dear  to  her 
heart  as  JciFy  Oliver,  feemed  to  eafe  her  bofom  of  half 
its  load.  A  very  lhort  time  fufBccd  for  the  feulement 
of  every  concern,  either  of  Mifs  Oliver  or  our  hero- 
ine, and  on  the  fecond  morning  after  their  meeting 
they  were  on  their  road  to  London.  Rachel  left  am- 
ple teftimony  with  her  aged  hoftefs  at  the  cottage* 
that  whatever  her  other  errors  might  have  been,  ilie 
was  not  guilty  of  the  fin  of  ingratitude.  Arrived  in 
London,  they  made  every  inquiry  after  Auberry,  and 
learnt  that  he  had  been  departed  above  a  fortnight, 
and  it  was- uuiverfally  believed  to  America. 

It  was  late  in  the  feafon  for  vefiels  to  crofs  the  boif- 
terous  Atlantic  ocean  ;  the  two  fair  friends  could  hear 
of  none  likely  to  fail  to  the  port  they  wifhed,  under  a, 
month  or  fix  weeks.  This  appeared  to  the  anxious 
and  impatient  Rachel  an  eternity  ;  and  being  inform- 
ed that  a  fhip  would  go  from  Liverpool  in  the  courfe 
©f  ten  days,  they  purlued  their  journey  for  that  place, 
and  arrived  juft  in  time  to  fecure  a  palfage,  as  the  vef- 
fcl  was  to  fail  the  following  morning. 

Reduced  as  our  heroine  was  by  illnefs,  this  long 
journey  was  almoft  too  much  for  her  Strength  ;  but 
Jcffy  Oliver  had  fiac  fpirits,  and  a  constitution  which, 

thnurh 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         343 

though  not  robufc,  could  fupport  great  fatigue  with* 
out  finking  under  it.  They  alighted  at  the  inn,  and 
reiblved  to  indulge  in  a  few  hours  reft  before  their  em- 
barkation, where  we  will  leave  them  and  make  fome 
little  inquiry  after  Auberry. 

When  lie  had  difpatched  his  letter  with  the  money 
to  Rachel,  he  waited  with  the  urmoft  impatience  the 
arrival  of  the  time  in  which  he  might  expe-ft  her.  He 
had  in  the  iirft  hurry  of  jealouJy,  rage  and  difappoint- 
ment  fold  his  commiflion,  and  taken  a  palf.-.ge  on 
board  a  fhip  bound  to  Philadelphia,  determined  '  evei 
more  to  vilk  his  native  country,  where  every  bright 
profpect  of  his  youth  had  been  untimely  blafted.  The 
reception  of  his  wife's  letter  awakened  all  his  tender- 
nefs  for  her.  Rachel  in  want,  deprciled,  fick.  broken- 
hearted, was  ever  before  his  eyes.  '  She  may  yet  be 
innocent,'  cried  he  ;  the  very  fuppoiition  feemed  to 
give  him   comfort;  'yet  the  proofs  of  her  depravity 

were  fo  incontestable '  here  his  heart  glowed  with 

refentment ;  '  1  will  at  lead  fend  her  the  means  of 
coming  immediately  to  me.  If  me  comes,  I  will  re- 
ceive her  with  affection,  if  not,  I  will  endeavour  to  for- 
get that  I  ever  knew  her.'  In  this  frame  of  mind  he 
wrote  the  letter  which  conveyed  the  money  to  cur  he- 
roine. 

But  when  day  after  day  parTed,  and  no  tidings  rx 
her  neither  by  letter  or  any  other  means,  he  conclud- 
ed Hie  was  totally  abandoned,  and  in  defpair  of  ever 
knowing  peace  again,  lie  embarked  on  his  intended 
voyage.  But  tempcihious  weather  enfuing,  and  the 
brig  in  which  he  embarked  being  rather  ancient, 
fprung  a  leak,  and  they  put  into  Liverpool  to  relit ; 
where  Auberry,  giving  way  to  the  defpair  that  prey- 
ed upon  his  mind,  funk  into  a  /late  of  inanity.  Both 
mind  and  body  became  debilitated ;  a  hectic  fever 
flowly  undermined  his  conftitution  ;  and  when  the  vef- 
fel  was  ready  to  depart,  he  was  too  ill  to  make  the 
voyage,  and  fuffered  her  to  go  without  him.  He 
had  gone  to  his  mother  immediately  on  his  arrival  in 
Liverpool,  where  he  explained  to  her  all  his  caufe  for 
forrow,  and  felt  every  wound  bleed  afrefh  a?  he 


3-H       REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ed  fome  letters  from  BeP.e  Webfter,  which  tended 
highly  to  criminate  his  wife.  Doctor  Lenient  was  all- 
ien t  at  the  time  of  his  arrival  ;  a  fmall  ellatc  had  been 
left  him  in  Ireland,  and  he  had  crofled  the  channel  in 
order  to  take  poilefiion  and  fettle  fome  very  material 
bnfmefs. 

When  Hamden  had  been  with  his  mother  about 
three  weeks>  the  Doctor  returnee',  furpriicd  to  fee  his 
nephew,  and  more  furprifed  at  his  very  rueful  appear- 
ance. He  inquired  what  he  had  been  doing  to  alter 
hirnfelf  fo.  "  I  have  been  ruining  myfelf,"  laid  Au- 
berry. 

"  Odfo  !  I  hope  not,"  replied  the  good-hearted  Doc- 
tor.    "  What,  have  you  been  gambling  ?" 

"  Yes,  in  the  lottery  of  life,  and  have  drawn  a  blank.. 
In  fhovt,  my  dear  uncle,  I  have  married  a  woman  with- 
out either  family  i  r  fortune,  and  am  difcarded  by  my 
aunt  ;  but  that  I  could  have  borne,  had  my  wife  been, 
faithful." 

"Odds  my  life!"  faid  the  Doctor,  "matrimony 
feems  no  improver  of  iiappinefs  ;  for  this  is  the  fecend 
tale  of  mifery  I  have  heard  to-day.  What  think  you,, 
lifter  ?  juft  as  I  landed  from  the  packet,  I  faw  two 
women  (landing  on  the  fhore,  ready  to  ftep  into  a  boat 
that  war,  waiting.  One  countenance  I  knew  inftantly  ; 
for  though  pale  and  greatly  emaciated,  there  was  Mill 
that  character  of  fenfibility  and  virtue  impreffed  upon 
it  for  which  I  ufed  to  admire  it.  It  was  cur  unfortu- 
nate young  friend  Rachel  Dudley." 

Hamden  gafped  for  breath,  but  he  fufFered  the  Doc- 
tor to  proceed  without  interruption.  "  She  had  a  fine 
boy  in  her  arms,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "  apparently 
about  four  months  old,  and  fpite  of  all  we  have  heard, 
I  felt  myfelf  impelled  to  fpeak  to  her.  Her  compan- 
ion was  Mifs  Oliver,  whom  we  heard  had  eloped  from 
her  father's  houfe,  and  who  has  not  been  heard  of  by 
her  family  for  abovca  twelvemonth." 
•  •  "  Well*  Sir,"  cried  Auberry  impatiently,  "  but 
what  of  Rachel." 

« Why  I'll  tell  you,"  faid  the  Doctor,  taking  off 
his  wig  arid  deliberately  putting  on  his  crimfon  velvet 

cap, 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         34$ 

«ap,  and  wi\hout  noticing  the  emotions  of  Hamden  ; 
"when  I  werte  up  to  her,  and  atked  her  how  ihe  did, 
Jhe  laid  her  han-1  on  her  bolbm,  and  with  a  look  I 
ihall  never  forget, nnnvercd,  "  Neither  well  nor  happy, 
Doctor." 

"  I  am  forry,  my  pnor  girl,"  faid  I,  "  for  fome  cir- 
cumilances  that  I  underftand  have  taken  place,  and 
knowing  your  extreme  fcnfibility,  cannot  be  furprifed 
that  they  have  injured  bot>.  your  health  and  peace  of 
mind.      But  where  are  you  gang  now  r" 

"  To  America,"  faid  ihe,  "Va  purfuit  of  my  hul- 
band." 

"  You  are  married,  then,"  laid  I. 

"  Yes,"  ihe  replied,  and  fixing  her  eyes  on  my  face, 
11  did  you  not  know  it  ?" 

"  No,  how  fhould  I  ?  I  have  been  in  Ireland  thefc 
two  months  pail.  Juft  then  the  failors  called  to  her 
to  get  into  the  boat.      She  tendered  me  her  hand." 

"  God  bleis  you,  my  good  Doctor,"  faid  ihe.  I 
fiiook  her  hand,  helped  her  in,  and " 

"  And  ihe  is  really  gone,  then,"  cried  Hamden 
frantickly. 

The  Dodlor  raifed  his  eyes ;  the  agitated  counte- 
nance of  his  nephew  alarmed  him.  "  Yes,  I  believe 
fo,"  faid  he  in  a  doubtful  tone  ;  "  but  why  docs  it  af- 
fect you  thus  ?" 

"  Why  does  it  affect  me  ?  01)  !  Sir,  I  am  the  hut 
band  of  Rachel  !  It  is  me  fhe  is  gone  in  purfuit  of. 
I  have  deferted,  abandoned,  forfaken  her ;  i  thought 
Iter  depraved  ;   I  was  told " 

"  Yes,  and  fo  have  I  been  told,"  faid  the  Doctor 
with  vehemence,  Unking  his  hand  on  the  elbow  of  his 
chair;  "but  after  beholding  her  meek,  cxprellive 
countenance,  where  candour  and  purity  are  (lamped  <m 
every  feature;  after  feeing  her  emaciated  frame,  and 
hearing  her  tremulous,  plaintive  accents,  I  would  not 
believe  the  fmalleft  tittle  to  her  diiadvar.tage,  though 
millions  joined  to  affirm  it !  Young  man,  you  have 
been  hafty,  and  blinded  by  paflion  ;  have  thrown  away 
a  pearl  of  ineftimable  price." 

Hamden's 


!4*         REUBEN    akd    RACHEL;  ot, 

Hamdcn's  feelings  were  now  too  grear  tor  utterance. 
His  mother  foothed  him  ;  but  Dr.  LcKcnt,  who  hated 
family  pride,  blamed  the  whole  of  Ais  conduct  ;  and 
though  before  he  went  to  bed  he  jvefcribed  fomething 
to  compofe  the  agitated  fpirits  of  Auherry,  yet  when 
retired,  his  thoughts  were  whol'y  occupied  by  Rachel, 
wandering  without  a  proper  protector,  in  fearch  of  a 
man  who  had  wantonly  foerifieed  her  happinefs  and 
reputation  on  the  altar  of  ambition  and  intereft. 


CHAPTER    LAST. 

Where  heaven-born  Freedom  holds  her  court 

Let  me  erect  my  humble  fhed ; 
Where  all  the  arts  with  joy  refort, 

And  Science  rears  her  lauttll'd  head'. 

E  left  Reuben  in  captivity,  employing  every 
leifure  moment  in  expanding  the  mind  and 
cultivating  the  talents  of  Eumea.  In  this  manner  fix 
weary  months  palfed  on,  and  flill  no  hope  of  emanci- 
pation. At  the  end  of  this  period,  tidings  arrived 
that  the  Indian  chiefs  had  been  guilty  of  a  breach  of 
the  European  laws,  and  in  confequence  had  fufferctl 
death.  The  fachem  called  a  council  of  his  ciders  and 
chieftains,  and  it  was  determined  that  Reuben  and  his 
nnhappy  companions  mould  on  the  enfuing  morning 
be  bound  to  the  flake,  and  fuffer  thofe  inhuman  tor- 
tures which  none  but  lavages  could  inflict,  and  none 
but  favages  fubmit  to,  without  an  endeavour  to  be 
avenged  of  thofe  who  inflict  them. 

Eumea  was  in  the  wigwam  at  the  time  this  horrid 
fentence  was  paifed  ;  her  heart  funk  ;  there  were  but 
a  few  hours  to  intervene  before  it  was  to  be  put  in  ex- 
ecution. In  the  dead  of  night,  lhe  entered  the  wig- 
wam of  our  hero; 

iC  Englishmen,"  faid  me,  "awake,  get  up  ;  danger 
and  death  are  at  hand  ;  hafte,  quit  this  place,  flee  into 
the  woods  that  flyrt  the  mountains,  and  the  God  of 

the 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.  347 

the  Chriftians  go  with  you."  In  a  few  words  fhe  ex- 
plained to  them  the  neceffity  of  their  immediate  flight, 
and  directing  their  fteps  to  a  cavern  in  a  hollow  glen, 
(lie  threw  her  arms  round  the  neck  of  Reuben,  bathed 
his  cheek  with  her  tears,  preffed  her  cold  trembling 
lips  to  his,  and  fobbing,  Adieu  !  returned  to  her  refo- 
lds bed  to  weep  and  pray  for  his  fafety. 

Innumerable  were  the  hardfhips  endured  by  Reu- 
ben and  his  companions,  fkulking  in  caves,  or  deep 
woods,  feeding  on  wild  fruit,  and  even  glad  to  maker 
a  meal  of  acorns  ;  terrified  by  the  ruffling  of  the 
leaves,  or  the  fteps  of  wild  though  inoffenfive  animals, 
natives  of  the  uncultivated  tracts  through  which  they 
were  obliged  to  pais. 

After  three  weeks  wearifome  journey,  they  at  length 
arrived  at  a  European  fettlement  ;  but  fo  reduced 
through  famine  and  fatigue,  that  it  feemed  as  though 
they  were  only  arrived  at  a  place  of  fafety  that  drey 
might  reft  from  all  their  cares  in  death.  Even  the 
ftrenglh  and  fpirits  of  O'Neil  began  to  flag,  and  he 
bitterly  regretted  that  he  wus  no  longer  able  to  cheer, 
attend  and  comfort  his  dear  niafter. 

But  what  was  die  furprife  of  Reuben,  when,  the  day 
after  his  arrival  at  this  place,  he  faw  Eumea  enter  the 
apartment  where  he  was.  He  railed  himfelf  from  the 
bed  on  which  he  was  reclining,  and  in  a  voice  that  cx- 
preired  at  once  furprife  and  pleafurc,  exclaimed,  "  Eu- 
mea here  !  what  ftrange  incident  !"  She  flopped  him, 
took  hold  of  his  hand,  and  looking  earncfoly  in  his 
face — 

"Is  it  ftrange  that  I  fhould  follow  you  ;  (laid  fhe) 
were  not  you  my  inftructor,  my  more  than  father,  my 
friend,  and  was  it  pofiiblc  Eumea  could  Ray  behind 
you  and  live  ?  Do  not  look  angry  ;  1  know  I  have 
done  wrong  ;  for  you  taught  me  to  love,  reflect,  and 
never  forfake  my  father  and  mother.  I  tried  to  re- 
member your  precepts,  I  tried  to  obey  your  injunc- 
tions ;  but,  alas  !  the  blent  night  was  v.itnefs  to  my 
anguifh,  and  the  rifing  fun  could  not  dry  the  dew  from 
my  ej^lids.  If  I  fiept,  I  faw  you,  liftened  to  you, 
and  was  happy.     Fleeting  joy  !  that  but  cmuittcred 

the 


3f+8  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

the  moment  of  awaking !  The  flowers  yon  had  gath- 
ered for  me  the  day  before  you  left  me,  I  bound  upon 
my  bread  next  my  heart  ;  I  have  worn  them  there 
ever  fince  ;  they  withered  and  dried,  but  every  day  I 
refrefh  them  with  my  tears.  One  morning,  .juft  as 
the  day  appeared,  1  arofe,  took  my  bow  and  an 
and  reiol.ved  to  follow  you.  My  mother  was  dill 
aileep  ;  I  looked  at  her,  1  knelt  befide  her  ;  but  I  dar- 
ed not  kifs  her  left  Hie  fhould  awake.  I  would 
prayed,  but  you  had  told  me  that  an  undutiful  child 
could  never  be  a  favourite  of  our  heavenly  Father  ;  fo 
I  prefTed  my  hands  on  my  heart,  which  throbbed  fte 
loud,  it  teemed  to  fay,  Oh  !  God  of  the  Chriftians, 
blefs  my  mother  !  God  knows  every  thought  of  the 
heart,  and  though  I  dared  not  pronounce  his  facred 
name  with  my  lips,  perhaps  its  iilent  petition  may  be 
read  and  anfwered." 

Eumea  paufed  ;  Reuben  would  have  aniwered,  but 
he  was  at  a  lofs  what  to  fay.  O'Neil,  weak  and  ill 
as  he  was,  had  moved  towards  her,  and  fitting  at  her 
feet,  leaning  one  hand  on  her  knees,  his  head  refted 
on  it,  and  his  languid  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  face,  as 
he  liftened  to  her  with  profound  attention. 

"  It  is  my  belief,"  faid  he,  "  that  God  Almighty 
never  turns  away  from  the  prayers  of  an  innocent 
heart ;  ami  then  to  be  fure  he  knows  all  we  want, 
when  we  can't  fpeak  to  afk  for  even  a  morfel  of  bread. 
Oh  !  if  we  were  only  to  have  what  we  deferred,  we 
mould  find  but  poor  accommodations,  in  our  journey 
through  this  world  ;  but  you  ice  he  was  fo  good  as  to 
fend  people  before  us  to  make  every  thing  comforta- 
ble ;  and  all  he  requires  is,  that  we  ihall  in  return 
make  things  pleafant  and  agreeable  for  them  that 
come  after  us." 

Reuben  could  not  help  fmiling  at  O'Neil's  moral- 
ity. Eumea  feemed  loft  in  thought,  and  fcarcely  to 
have  attended  to  what  he  faid  ;  but  when  fhe  found 
he  was  iilent,  ihe  again  addreffed  cur  hero. 

"  So  you  fee  here  I  am  ;  but  what  have  I  gained 
by  following  you  ?  Nothing  !  for  now  all  thatgf  fuf- 
fered  before  for  your  abfence,  I  now  feel  on   account 

of 


TAL'ES    of    OLD    TIMES. 

01  my  mother.  But  I  will  not  return.  No  ;  I  could 
not  iupport  my  father's  unkindnefe,  and  my  mother's 

reproaches,  which  would  be  the  more  painful  becaafe 
mingled  with  affection.  I  will  follow  ycu,  my  dear 
inflruclor,  I  will  be  your  handmaid,  and  love  and 
ferve  you  to  the  laft  hour  of  mv  lite." 

"  And  fo  will  I,"  laid  O'Nt'il,  "  and  I'll  well  ferve 
you  too,  my  beautiful  Indian  lady,  every  day  and  all 
the  day,  and  by  night  too,  if  fo  be  (there  be  nccefiity." 

"  And  how  did  you  know  that  you  mould  find  fflc 
here  ?''  faid  Reuben. 

"  I  knew,"  (he  replied,  "  that  this  was  the  nearer, 
fettlement,  and  had  I  not  found  you  here,  I  mould 
have  travelled  onward  to  Philadelphia  ;  and  had  yon 
not  been  there,  I  fhould  have  thought  you  had  died 
by  the  way,  and  would  have  fought  you  in  a  better 
world,  the  world  of  fpirits." 

'-  You  would  not,  1  hope,  Eumca,  have  dared  to 
rulh  unbidden  into  eternity  :"'  faid  Reuben. 

"  I  fear  I  mould,"  fhe  replied  ;  "  for  wiiy  fhould  wc 
endure  life,  when  the  nights  are  paft  in  anguifli,  and 
every  day  is  a  day  of  forrow  ^  When  the  wintry  blafts 
howl,whcn  the  mow  i  alls, and  the  froil  binds  up  the  lakes ; 
then,  when  confined  to  the  wigwam,  there  is  no  comfort 
within,  but  the  tempeft  of  the  pafiions  rages  more  furious 
than  the  gale  that  bows  the  tall  cedars,  and  ihakes  to  the 
roots  the  (lately  oak  ;  why  ihould  we  not  deep  with 
the  infecT:  or  the  reptile  tribes,  that  pais  the  dreary^ 
feafon  in  infenfibility  ?  And  when  the  warm  fouthern 
breeze  difiolves  the  ice,  and  bids  the  trees  be  green, 
the  bloflom  come  ;  when  the  blackbird  whiftles  mer- 
rily, and  the  robin  begins  to  drefs  his  plumes  ;  if  then 
nor  fragrant  bloffom,  nor  cheerful  bird,  nor  flower- 
freckled  field  delight  the  fenfe,  or  foothe  the  tortured 
foul,  were  it  not  better  r.)  feek  repofe  in  other  climes, 
more  fuited  to  our  feelings?  Or  when  the  deer  fceks 
the  deep  woods,  and  pants  though  lying  on  the  riv- 
:r's  brink,  when  the  fcorching  fun  dries  the  grafs  and 
•  parches  up  the  ground,  where  is  the  harm  if,  pin: 
in  the  wave,  we  quench  the  fever  that  coniumes 
or  from  our  veins  let  out  the  blood,  that  rufiics  with 
G  g  fooh 


3$o         REUBEN    Asn    RACHEL;  or, 

fuch  fury  through  our  frame,  fwelling  the  heart  tUl 
it  is  near  to  buriting  ?  Or  even  when  the  feafon  of 
torn  arrives  ;  when  clufters  of  wild  grapes  hang  cm 
the  bending  vines;  when  the  berries,  blackened  by  the 
fun,  peep  through  the  half-faded  leaver, ;  when  the 
cool,  foft  breeze  of  evening,  and  the  fwect  air  of  the 
morning,  affords  refreflnng  ilumbcrs  to  the  eyelids,  or 
unclolcs  them  to  plcafing  profpects,  that,  being  fur- 
vcyed,  makes  the  heart  .dance  with  joy — Ah  !  then, 
if  the  eyes  are  dimmed  with  tears  and  the  heart  op- 
preflcd  with  forrow ;  is  it  a  fin  to  feek  that  happy 
place  where  we  can  neither  weep  nor  fuffer  more  ?" 

"  You  have  profited  but  little  by  my  inftrmftions, 
Eumea,"  faid  Reuben,  "  if  you  can  argue  thus." 

"  I  will  follow  you,  then,"  faid  (he  emphatically, 
"  and  endeavour  to  improve." 

In  about  a  fortnight,  our  hero  and  his  companion', 
were  enough  recovered  to  continue  their  journey.  It 
was  in  vain  he  entreated  Eumea  to  return  to  he- 
mother,  flie  perlifted  in  following  him.  It  was  with- 
out effeift  that  he  reprcfented  to  her,  that  in  accompa- 
nying him  flic  would  be  looked  upon  with  dilfcipecl 
by  the  European  women;  her  refolution  was  taken 
and  was  not  to  be  fhaken. 

The  appearance  of  Reuben  and  his  followers  was 
jmifcrublc  in  the  extreme  when  they  entered  Philadel- 
phia; and  what  added  to  their  mifery  was,  that  amongft 
I  them  all  they  had  not  a  finglc  copper,  nor  any  friends 
'to  whom  they  could  apply  for  aiTiftance.  The  for- 
lorn group  had  crolfed  the  Schuylkill,  and  with  weary 
ftcps  were  approaching  the  city,  when  a  venerable 
r»ari  of  the  fociety  of  Friends,  riding  out  for  exercifc 
and  air,  furvcyed  them  with  an  eye  of  companion, 
and  Hopping  his  horfe — "  Friend,"  faid  he,  addrefling 
Reuben,  "both  thou  and  thy  companions  fcem  fa- 
tigued, and  appear  to  have  taken  a  long  journey  ; 
from  whence  doft  thou  come  •" 

"  From  captivity,"  faid  Reuben. 
"  Yes,"  cried    6'Neil,  who,   having  recovered  his 
nfu-.i!  fpirits,    puflied  forward  to    fpeak    for  himfelt ; 
tve  been  obliged  to  pay  a  pretty  l<u;g  vifu 

to 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES. 

tc^  the  copper-coloured  gentlefolks,  and  if  we  ha 
come  away  as  we  did,  they  would  have  fcalped  us  and 
roalled  us,  and  then  a  pretty  figure   we   Humid   have 
cut!     But  this  dear  creature,  who,  though  fhe  is  a  li;- 
tle  darkifh  or  fo,  has  a  heart  as  beautiful  as  an  a 
fo   fhe   told   us  what   they  were   about   going  to  de.. 
Said  fhe,  Get  up,  my  lads,  and  run   away  whilft  you 
can  ;  for  to-morrow  you  will  have  no  legs  to  run  with. 
So  away  we  came,  and  a  fine  trampoofe  we  have  h.  > 
And  now  we  have  got  here,  I  don't  know  that  We  are 
much  better  off;  for  if  they  had  roafted  us,  we  fiiould 
not  a  lived  to  be  ftarved  to  death  ;  for  a  devil  a  : 
have  we  got  to  buy  bread." 

"  Nevcrthelcfs,''  faid  the  benevolent  friend,  "  thou 
ihalt  not  flarve.  I  am  not  rich  ;  but  Heaven  fcrbid 
that  I  mould  fuffer  a  fellow-creature  to  want  while  I 
have  a  morfel  to  give  him,  or  a  blanket  to  fpare  to 
flicker  him  from  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather.  I 
have  a  houfe  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  but  a  ver> 
fhort  diftance  from  the  city,  and  its  doors  were  never 
fluit  againft  the  unfortunate  ;  come  home  with  me, 
then,  and  bring  the  good  Indian  maiden  with  thee. 
It  matters  not  to  what  nation,  kindred  or  people  they 
belong  who  are  in  affliction  ;  I  feel  they  arc  my  breth- 
ren, and  as  fuch,  I  will  gladly  fhare  my  own  comforts 
with  them." 

They  heard  with  delight  the  genuine  effuf.or.-;  ri 
mercy  and  benevolence  flow  from  the  lips  of  the  ir.a*. 
of  peace,  and  being  directed  by  him,  purfued  their  way 
to  the  habitation  of  hofpitality. 

"  A  fmall  manfion,  built  by  frugality  and  furnifhed 
by  fimplicity,  fituatcd  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware, 
and  furrounded  by  a  large  and  well-cultivated  garden, 
was  the  dwelling  of  Stediafl  Trueman.  Elizabeth  his 
wife  was  not  handfome,  but  there  was  fomething  in 
her  look,  voice  and  manner,  more  charming  than 
beauty.  Her  houfe,  her  children,  herfelf,  were  pure- 
emblems  of  neatnefs,  innocence  and  induftry.  She 
heard  that  fome  poor  guefls  were  arrived,  directed  to 
their  friendly  roof  by  her  hufband,  came  into  the 
kitchen  to  bid  them  welcome,  and  with  her  own  hand ; 

i 


352        REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

ailift  ed  to  fet  forth   rcfrcnimcnt.     The   children  curie  -• 
round  them,  feme  eagerly  curious  and  inquititive,  and  • 
others  timidly   Handing  aloof,  to   obicrve  the    ftrange 
drefs  and  appearance  of  I  Hers: 

In  this  afylum,  Reuben  and  his  companions  foon 
recruited  both  health  and  fpiritsi  Their  benevolent 
friend  fupplied  them  with  fome  coarfe  clothing,  the 
joint  product  of  his  farm  and  his  wife's  induilry.  In 
the  courfe  of  conversation  our  hero  mentioned  his  fath- 
er's name. 

"  Dudley,"  faid  friend  Trueman  ;  "  I  knew  him 
well  ;  a  more  worthy,  honeft  man  never  exiftcd. 
If  thou  art  his  fon,  thou  haft,  I  fear,  been  greatly 
wronged  by  the  man  Jacob  Holmes.  I  )  ;.ve  reafon  to 
believe  thy  father  was  a  man  of  Uriel  integrity,  and 
that  he  would  not  prcmeditatedly  affect  a  faiithood. 
He  did  declare  to  me  in  confidence  every  particular 
of  his  paft  life,  and  though  he  did  not  boaft  of  his 
good  deeds,  yet  I  gathered  enough  to  believe  that  Ja- 
cob was  the  child  of  his  bounty.  But  the-  man  has 
fince  fo  boldly  and  fblerrmly  contradicted  that  belief, 
that  I  dare  not  judge  too  raihly  ;  and  Heaven  forbid 
that  I  mould  condemn  him  ;  for,  juft  or.unjuft,  he  is 
gone  to  <dve  an  account  of  his  ftewardfnip  before 
Him,  who,  requiring  but  humility,  juilice  and  mercy 
from  his  fervants  toward  their  fellow-creatures,  will  in 
no  wife  excufe  thofe  who  flight  his  counfcls,  :>r  break 
»  his  commandments." 

Reuben  was  furprifed.  "Is  Jacob  Holmes  then 
dead  :"  faid  he. 

"Vciilyhe  lleepeth  with  his  fathers,"  faid  True- 
man.  "He  was  greatly  hurt  about  three  months 
fince,  by  a  fall  from  his  horle  ;  the  bruife  was  inter- 
nal, brought  on  a  fpitting  of  blood,  which  baffled  all 
medical  aid,  and  he  went  off  fuddenly,  when  he  fup- 
pbfed  himlelf  mending.  Indeed,  I  was  told  he  nevei 
believed  himfelf  in  danger.  More  is  the  pity  ;  the  rod 
of  affliction,  that  warns  us  of  approaching  diifolution, 
is  a  falutary  and  neccftary  judgment,  that  as  we  bow- 
under  the  correcting  hand,  we  may  implore  that  mer- 
cv  which  is  never  withheld  from  the  penitent  firmer." 

"And 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         353 

*'  And  who  inherits  his  eftate  ?"  faid  Reuben. 

"  His  infant  fon,  who  with  his  mother,  ftill  refide^ 
in  the  houfe." 

"  Mrs.  Holmes  is  a  worthy  woman,"  faid  Reuben, 
*<  and  poffeffes  an  honeft  fimplicity  of  heart  extremely 
interefting.  Oh  bounteous  Difpofer  of  events,"  con- 
tinued he,  and  his  foul  expanded  as  he  fpoke,  "vifit 
not,  I  humbly  befeech  thee,  the  fins  of  the  father  upon 
the  child  ;  but  may  he  live  to  be  a  comfort  to  his 
mother,  a  friend  to  the  worthy,  and  thy  faithful  fer- 
vant  to -a  good  old  age." 

"  Thy  pious  prayers,  good  young  man,"  faid  True- 
man,  "return  tenfold  on  thy  own  head." 

The  unfortunate  participators  of  Reuben's  captivity 
being  recruited,  departed  in  fearch  of  employment ; 
but  himfelf,  O'Neil  and  Eumea  were  detained  in  the 
habitation  of  friend  Trueman,  who  wifhed  to  place  our 
hero  in  fome  reputable  employ,  mca:it  to  detain  O'Neil 
in  his  ownfervice,  and  thought  the  food  and  raiment  ue- 
ce/fary  to  render  the  Indian  maid  comfortable,  would 
never  be  miffed  by  his  own  family.  The  inquiries  he 
fet  on  foot  for  employment  for  our  hero  made  it  uni- 
verfally  known  that  he  was  returned  to  Philadelphia. 

One  morning,  as  he  fat  converfing  with  Trueman, 
he  was  furprifed  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Holmes.  She 
advanced  to  him  with  a  firm  but  eager  ftep,  and  pre- 
fenting  her  hand,  "  I  am  glad  to  fee  thee,  friend  Reu- 
ben," faid  flie  ;  "  I  did  not  hear  of  thy  return  till  yef- 
ter  even,  or  I  mould  have  come  to  vifit  thee  before." 

Our  hero  cordially  fhook  her  proffered  hand,  led 
her  to  a  feat,  and  told  her  he  was  happy  in  an  oppor- 
tunity to  renew  their  acquaintance. 

"  1  expedl  thou  doft  know  already  that  Jacob  Holmes 
is  gone  home,"  faid  ihe,  her  hofom  heaving  and  her 
eyes  fwimming  in  tears.     Reuben  bowed  affent. 

"  Thou  haft  no  right  to  regret  his  departure,"  con- 
tinued fhe,  "  but  he  was  the  chofen  friend  v£  my  heart, 
the  father  of  my  child,  the  fupport  of  his  family  ;  his 
lofs  to  me  is  irreparable."  She  paufed  a  foment.  "  1 
have,  fince  his  departure,"  fhe  continued,  recovering 
her  voice,  "  difcovefed  amongft  feme  old  papers,  which- 
Gg2.      .  I  do 


354         REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

I  Jo  dope  and  believe  he  had  never  infpecled,  the  at- 
tefted  copy  of  a  will,  and  other  accounts  of  cci.: 
quence  to  thee.  Here  they  are;  thou  wilt  find  by 
them  that  thou  art  the  real  poncHor  of  Mount  Pleai- 
ant.  I  am  fure  I  could  not  be  happy  to  detain  it 
from  the  lawful  owner,  and  I  here  relinquilh  all  claim 
to  it,  and  throw  both  myfclf  and  child  upon  your  be- 
nevolence." She  then  untied  a  handkerchief,  and  de- 
livered the  papers  into  the  hands  of  Reuben,  whole 
feelings  on  the  occaiion  cannot  eafdy  be  defcribed. 

Our  hero,  thus  railed  almoft  inftantaneoufly  from 
extreme  poverty  to  a  Hate  of  cafe,  and  indeed  (what 
in  thofe  days  of  moderation  was  termed)  affluence, 
made  it  his  firft  care  to  place  Mrs.  Holmes  and  her 
fon  in  a  comfortable  habitation,  and  to  fettle  upon 
them  one  third  of  all  his  father  died  poiTelTed  of.  He 
placed  Eumca  with  her,  who  aftiduoufly  endeavoured 
to  conform  to  the  European  drefs,  cuftoms  and  man- 
ners ;  but  ihe  pined  at  being  feparated  from  Reuben, 
and  if  more  than  two  days  elapfed  without  her  feeing 
him,  flic  would  give  way  to  the  molt  violent  affliction. 
Our  hero  had,  previous  to  his  campaign  againft  the 
Indians,  frequently  written  to  his  lifter  ;  but  thcle  let- 
ters being  directed  to  the  care  cf  Mr.  Andrew  Atkins,, 
■were  never  forwarded  to  our  heroine  ;  indeed,  after 
the  firft,  he  might  have  pleaded  in  excufe  that  he  did 
not  know  where  to  find  her. 

Reuben  made  every  inquiry  at  the  poft-ofiice,  and 
of  the  mafters  of  veffels  then  arriving  from  England, 
for  letters,  but  could  hear  of  none  addrefTed  to  him- 
felf ;  and  he  meditated  a  voyage  to  his  native  place, 
in  order  to  bring  his  lifter  over,  andfometimes  indulg- 
ing the  fond  hope,  that  Jelly  Oliver  might  accompany 
her.  But  as  he  had  much  to  fettle  previous  to  tak- 
ing fo  long  a  voyage,  he  deferred  it  till  the  enfuing 
fpring. 

His  friend,  Stedfaft  l\ueman,  had  made  a  purchafe 
of  fome  land  fituated  in  New-Jerfey,  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Delaware;  he  thought  it  neceifary  to  vi£t  its 
this  autumn,  and  plan  out  the  improvements  he  meant 
fhould  take  place  iu,  tfie.  faring.     He  invited  R^ube^ 

to 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         355 

to  accompany  him  on  tins  excursion,  and  he,  wifliing 
to  fee  a  little  of  that  part  of  die  country,  affeitfcd. 
Their  journey  was  extremely  pleaiant ;  but  on  the 
d;iy  preceding  that  they  had  fettled  for  their  return  to 
Philadelphia,  a  cold  dorm,  fuch  as  often  precedes  or 
accompanies  the  fun's  autumnal  paflagc  acrols  the 
equinox,  commenced,  and  they  refblved  to  tarry  till 
its  fury  was  abated.  On  the  evening  of  the  fee  pud 
day,  it  wus  inereafed  to  a  tremendous  degree,  nm  ' 
blowing  fteadily,  but  in  gulls,  that  threw  the  ocean  into 
horrible  convulsions,  heaping  up  vaft  mountainous 
waves  that  feemed  to  threaten  heaven,  and  leaving 
hollow  chafms,  in  which  the  veifels  (which  they  could 
plainly  defcry  from  the  windows  of  the  houfe  they 
were  in)  feemed  often  to  he  loft,  though  in  a  moment 
after  they  appeared  again  on  the  fum.mit  of  the  high- 
tit  wave. 

Friend  Trueman  and  our  hero  were  greatly  affect- 
ed at  the  evident  diflrefs  in  which  feveral  fmall  barks 
appeared  ;  they  flood  anxiouily  watching  them,  till 
the  curtain  of  night  iluit  them  from  their  view.  The 
houfe  they  were  in  was  lituated  at  the  entrance  of  Great 
Egg-Harbour  ;  and  as  the  ftorm  abated  in  fome  tri- 
fling degree  towards  morning,  Reuben  and  his  friend 
arofe  with  the  earlieft  dawn,  to  fee  it  any  figns  of 
wrecks  were  apparent,  or  if  they  could  be  of  any  fer- 
vice  to  the  fuffering  mariners,  who  might,  if  luckily 
they  cicaped  fuch  a  catafhophe,  be  in  want  of  friends 
and  ailiuancc.  They  wrapped  themfelvcs  in  their 
greatcoats,  and  walked  towards  the  fca,  where  they 
prcfently  defcried  a  fhip  dreadfully  fhattered,  endeav- 
ouring to  make  the  harbour.  Her  foremaft  and  main- 
topmait  were  gone  ;  fome  of  her  fails,  torn  in  atoms, 
Were  fluttering  in  the  wind,  and  the  few  lhe  could  ex- 
pand were  fearccly  manageable. 

Long  they  laboured,  lor  fome  hours  oppofed  both 
by  wind  and  tide  ;  at  length  the  latter  turned  in  her 
favour,  and  lhe  fetched  in,  but  not  without  making  re- 
peated fignals  of  diirrefs  ;  and  it  was  very  evident,  as 
i}ie  approached  the  fhore,  that  (he  laboured  heavily  in 
the  water,  and  all  the  fpee'eators  concluded  lhe  was  in 

danger 


356         REUBEN    axd    RACHEL;  or, 

danger  of  finking.  The  fea  ran  fo  high,  no  boat 
could,  without  imminent  rifle,  go  to  the  affiftance  of 
the  wretched  crew.  At  length  a  fifning  boat  ventur- 
ed off.  The  people  on  board  had  thrown  out  an  an- 
chor, but  fhc  dragged  it,  and  the  wind  letting  acrofs 
the  harbour,  fhc  was  making  (tern  foremoit  to  the 
fliore.  Juft  as  the  boat  reached  her,  fhe  ft  ruck,  and 
the  cries  of  the  affrighted  failors  and  pa.Tengers  reach- 
ed the  ears  of  thofe  who  flood  on  the  fhore,  waiting 
in  fufpenfe  and  horror  to  behold  the  fate  of  fo  fine  a 
lhip  and  her  unfortunate  company.  Several  women 
were  feen  on  the  deck,  and  the  fpeclators  fecmed  as 
though  they  could  have  given  their  own  lives  to  pre- 
fcrve  the  lives  of  the  fuffcrers. 

When  the  boat  reached  the  (hip,  the  people  rufiied 
over  the  fides  into  her  ;  the  women  were  helped  in, 
and  in  a  few  moments  their  fituation  was  as  perilous 
from  having  overloaded  the  boat,  as  it  had  been  be- 
fore in  the  vefl'el.  However,  they  put  off,  and  made 
towards  the  fhore  ;  the  wind  favoured  them,  and  the 
fpectators  exultingly  cried,  In  five  minutes  they  will 
be  all  fafe  ;  but  in  a  much  lefs  time,  a,  fudden  flaw 
took  the  fails  ;  from  the  number  cf  pcrfons  on  board, 
the  fifhermen  could  not  flack  the  fheets  in  time,  and 
fhe  cverfct. 

All  the  aim  of  thofe  on  fhore  was  now  to  five,  if 
poffible,  the  lives  of  fome,  who,  borne  by  the  foaming 
furge,  feemed  almoft  to  reach  the  land,  when  the  re- 
ceding wave  would  dafh  them  back  into  the  dread 
abyfs  of  waters.  Spars  faftened  by  ropes  were  thrown 
into  the  fea,  while  a  number  of  men  on  fhore  flood 
ready  to  drag  them  to  land,  ftiould  any  defpairing 
wretch  feize  them  as  the  means  of  deliverance.  Reu- 
ben was  bufied  in  this  humane  endeavour,  when  he 
heard  a  ftiout  of  exultation  from  a  group  of  men  em- 
ployed in  the  fame  manner  at  a  little  diflance.  They 
waved  alfo  for  more  help.  He  therefore  quitted  his 
own  party,  which  was  more  numerous,  and  ran  to 
their  affiftance,  when  he  perceived  that  two  women 
had  been  already  fnatched  from   a  watery  grave,  and 

fcveral 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES, 

federal  men  were,  by  the  help  of  the  fpar*,  near  the 
more. 

'•  Here," -fait!  the  matter  of  the  houfe  at  v.hich  thcr 
lodged,  "here,  lake  this  poor  infant,  and  carry  it  ic 
the  houfe,  bid  my  dame  make  up  a  large  fire  hi  every 
room,  and  get  all  the  beds  ready.  You  mull  fleep  (  Q 
the  floor  to-night,  Sir." 

Reuben  clafped   the   poor  little   drtppii  -1t  to 

his  naked  breaft,  wrapped  his  coat  round  it,  and 
delighted  to  find,  by  a  faint  moaning  noife  it  made, 
that  in  all  probability  it  would  recover.  Hfe  I 
the  houfe,  gavo  the  child  into  the  care  of  a  kind-start- 
ed Negro  wench,  and  then  returned  to  help  the  two 
women.  One  was  entirely  fenfelefs,  for  ihe  had  drop- 
ped on  the  very  moment  file  readied  the  fhore  ;  the 
other  was  unable  to  walk  or  fptak,  'out  yet  could  make 
iigns  that  her  fen!?s  were  perfect.  Reuben  affined  to 
carry  them  in,  gave  them  in  charge  to  the  women  oi 
the  houfe,  and  then  returned  to  the  fea  fide  ;  but  foon 
perceiving  nothing  more  was  to  be  done,  he  came 
back  to  inquire  after  the  little  traveller. 

"  The  women  are  both  recovered,"  laid  a  man,  as  he 
entered  the  houfe. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  faid  Retiben  ;  "  might    I  be  ad- 
mitted to  fpeak  to    them  ;  they   are  no  doubt  E 
women,  and  will  rejoice  to  find  a  countryman  {o  near 
them,  who  is  willing  and   leady  to   render   them  any 
fervice." 

This  meflage  was  cairied  to  the  ladies,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment he  was  admitted.  They  were  in  feparate  beds 
in  the  fame  room.  Reuben  drew  near  that  which  Was 
next  the  door  ;  the  perfon  who  occupied  it  railed  her- 
felf  partly,  and  exclaiming;  "  It  is  1  it  is  my  broth- 
er !"  threw  herfelf  into  his  arms,  which,  linking  on  the 
bed  befiie  her.  he  had  extended  to  receive  her  ;  tor  the 
moment  he  beheld  her  face,  he  recognized  his  fitter, 
and  the'  exclamation  of  '  Dear  Reuben  !'  '  beloved  Ra- 
chel!' mutually  efcaped  their  lips  as  they  burft  into  a 
Hood  oi  tears. 

And  what  were  the  feelings  of  JciTy  Oliver  at  this 
moment  I  they    were  indefcribable.     She   folded  her 

hands 


35&  REUBEN    and    RACHEL;  t>tj 

hands  over  her  face,  and  the  filent  tears  tiickled 
through  licr  lingers.  Rachel  recovered  articulation 
firft.  "  Reuben,*4  faid  (he,  "  there  is  a  dcs.r  friend  of" 
both  yours  and  mine  ;  'tis  Jelly  Oliver,  who  has  been 
riend,  my  fupporter,  my  more  than  fitter.'*' 

Reuben  left  his  filler,  and  dropping  on  his  knees  by 
the  bedlide  of  Jeffy,  drew  her  hands  from  her  lace, 
and  feeling  more  at  that  moment  for  her  kindnefs  to 
liis  filter,  than  from  any  other  motive,  preued  them  to 
his  heart,  and  cried,  "  May  Heaven  forever  blefs  you." 
The  enfuing  feene  may  be  conceived,  but  cannot  be 
defcribed.  Reuben  difcovered,  from  tht  lamentations 
of  his  filler,  that  it  was  her  infant  lie  had  brought  to 
the  houfe  (lhe  had  dropped  it  at  the  moment  oi  land- 
ing when  her  fenfes  failed  her,  and  imagined  it  drown- 
ed) and  he.  had  the  exquifite  pleafure  of  reftoring  it  to 
her  arms. 

A  few  days  reinstated  their  health  and  fpirits,  and 
our  hero,  with  his  friend  Stedfaft  Trueman,  efcorted 
the  happy  Rachel  and  Jeffy  to  Philadelphia.  The  for- 
mer explained  every  circurnftar.ee  of  her  marriage, 
and  its  fubfequent  confequences- ;  and  the  latter  when 
folicited  to  become  miitrefs  of  Mount  Pleafant,  did' 
not  frown  or  threaten  to  be  obdurate.  They  arrived 
at  friend  Trueman's  houfe  about  midday,  and  after 
taking  a  flight  refrefhment,  Reuben,  with  his  fifter  and 
her  charming  friend,  proceeded  to  Mount  Pleafant. 
They  were  met  at  the  gate  by  O'Neil. 

"  Och  !  my  dare  matter,"  laid  he,  "I'm  mighty 
glad  you  are  come  back,  for  here  has  been  a  ftrange 
ibrt  of  a  gentleman  here,  and  for  the  matter  of  that 
he  is  here  now,  in  our  houfe,  but  he  is  fick  ;  fo  as  he 
feeme'd  to  love  your  honour,  and  talk  kindly  of  my 
good  lady  your  filter  that  I  have  heard  your  honour 
ipeiik  of,  I  put  him  into  the  bell  chamber,  and  fent  for 
a  doctor,  and  I  hope  your  honour  won't  be  angry,  be- 
cause you  fee  I  did  as  if  I  had  been  in  your  honour's 
place.'? 

O'Neil  would  have  gone  on,  had  he  not  feen  a  chaife 
approach,  (for  Reuben  was  on  horfeback).  "And 
be  thsfe  viiitors :"  faid  lie. 

«  Yes," 


TALES    op    OLD    TIMES.         3,39 

"Yes,''  replied  our  hero,   "  and  the  very  fitter 
fpoke  of,  and  a  charming  lady,  who  I  hope  will  foon 
•become  your  miftrefs,  O'Neil." 

The  honeft,  affectionate  O'Neil  flayed  not  to  reply  ; 
he  d:irted  forward,  and  feemed  as  it'  he  would  have 
helped  the  horfe  uiat  drew  the  filter  ot  his  beloved 
mailer.  When  the  carriage  Moppet4,  he  waited  not 
for  ceremony  ;  but  as  Jcily  flood  on  the  fide  ot  the 
chaife  ready  to  alight,  he  feized  her  in  his  arms,  and 
bore  her  into  the  houfe  ;  then  running  back,  took  the 
child  from  Rachel,  (whom  Reuben  had  helped  out  ot* 
the  chaife)  almoft  devoured  it  with  kifles,  and  leaping, 
dancing  and  capering,  cried,  "  Yes  !  yes  !  he  will  be 
happy  after  all,  I  knew  he  would,  I  was  always  furc 
he  would.  O  that  my  dear  Millrefs  Juliana  was  but. 
alive  new  \" 

Perhaps  the  reader  has  before  this  furmifed.,  that  die 
Arrange,  inquilitive,  lick  gentleman  was  no  other  than 
Hamden  Auberry,  who  had  embarked  for  Philadel- 
phia immediately  after  his  knowledge  of  our  heroine's 
leekuig  him  in  that  place  ;  but  the  iliip  in  which  he 
embarked  being  a  fad  lailcr,  and  (leering  a  different 
•  eourfe  to  that  purfued  by  the  one  in  which  was  his 
will-,  arrived  fafe  in  the  port  of  Philadelphia  the  very 
night  before  the  commencement  of  the  llorm  in  which 
poor  Rachel  fuffered  Co  much,  and  fo  nearly  ek.u  sd 
with  life.  His  fir  ft  inquiries  were  for  Reuben,  and  he 
was  directed  to  Mount  Pleafant*;  on  his  arrival  there, 
he  learnt  that  Rachel  was  not  arrived,  and  that  Reu- 
ben was  abfent  from  home.  Change  of  climate,  the 
fatigues  of  a  long  voyage,  and  the  anguiih  of  mind  he 
had  endured  for  fix  months  paft,  had  fa  enervated 
his  Frame  and  ihook  his  conftitution,  that  when  he  at- 
tempted to  remount  the  boric  that  brought  him,  he 
turned  fo  faint  as  to  be  obliged  to  return  to  the  houfe, 
where  he  grew  fo  much  worfe,  that  O'Neil  (as  he 
had  told  his  mailer)  advifed  him  to  go  to  bed,  and 
lent  for    a  do. 

The  meeting  between  our  heroine  and  her  hufband 
was  all  that  real  affection  and  fenfibility  can  imagine. 
■Racli  i:n!  regretted  the  pain  lite  had  uninten- 

tionally. 


360         REUfcEN    and    RACHEL;  or, 

tionally  given  him,  whilft  he  implored  her  pardon  for 
that  falfe  pride,  which  had  riril  expofed  her  to  die  fuf- 
picions  and  infults  of  thofe  who,  envying  her  fuperior 
merit,  rejoiced  in  an  opportunity  to  level  her  with  their 
own  contaminated  ideas. 

About  fix  weeks  after  this  happy  meeting,  Reuben 
received  the  hand  of  Jeffy  Oliver.  It  was  a  day  of 
feftivity.  The  gates  of  Mount  Plcaiant  were  thrown 
open,  and  every  viftor  made  welcome.  To  add  to 
their  mirth,  a  dance  in  the  evening  was  to  fin'fh  the 
entertainment. 

A  fecial  meal,  difpenfed  with  chcerfulncfs,  and  par- 
taken with  a  true  fpirit  of  hilarity,  had  been  jufl  v; 
moved,  when  the  parlour  door  haftily  opened,  and  Eu- 
Hiea  entered.  Her  hair  hung  loofe  about  her  fhoul- 
dcrs  ;  her  eyes  were  wild,  aud  her- voice  broken.  She 
rulhed  toward  Reuben  and  Jeffy,  and  taking  a  hand 
from  each,. joined  them  ;  then  preffing  them  to  her 
bofom,  raifed  her  eye;  to  heaven — 

"  God  of  the  Chriftians,"  faid  fhe  fervently,  "  mr,ke 
them  forever  happy.  Wife  of  Reuben,  thou  art  a  hap- 
py woman,  for  thy  hufband  is  a  man  of  honour.  He 
iaw  the  weaknefs  of  a  poor,  unprotected  Indian  maid, 
he  pitied  her  folly,  but  took  no  advantage  of  it." 

Jeffy  was  affected  by  the  fim'ple  yet  fervent  addrefs. 
Reuben  took  the  hand  of  Eumea,  and  would  have 
nmdc  her  lit  down,  but  fhe  redded. 

"No!  no!"  laid  fhe,  "  Eumea  will  reft  no  more, 
know  peace  no  more.  I  had  raifed  a  deity  of  my  own, 
built  an  altar  in  my  bofom,  and  daily  offered  the  fa- 
crilicc  of  a  fond,  an  affectionate  heart  ;  but  the  days 
are  paft,  I  can  worfhip  no  longer  without  a  crime. 
Farewel,"  faid  fhe,  enthufiaftically  clafping  her  hand--, 
**  do  not  quite  forget  the  poor,  poor  Eumea  !" 

She  then  left  the  houfe,  and  Reuben  lent  a  pcrfon 
to  follow  and  fee  that  lhc  came  to  no  ill.  She  went 
home,  but  continued  not  long  there  ;  a  young  woman, 
who  from  her  wild  looks  and  incoherent  language 
imagined  her  mind  to  be  difofdered,  endeavoured  to 
detain  her,  but  in  vain.  About  the  duih.  of  the  even- 
ing fhe  went  out,  and  all  inquiry  for  her  was  feuitlafe 

•  till 
\ 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         361 

till  three  days  after,  when  as  Reuben  was  giving  fome 
orders  to  O'Neil,  in  that  part  of  his  ground  mat  lay 
on  the  verge  of  the  Schuylkill,  they  difcovered  feme- 
thing  floating  on  the  water  ;  the  garments  befpoke  it 
a  woman.  Reuben's  heart  fhuddered  ;  they  dragged 
it  to  the  ihore  ;  it  was  the  corpfe  of  poor  Eumea.  Reu- 
ben fighed,  raifed  his  eyes  to  heaven,  but  was  fileiit. 
Not  fo  O'Neil.  He  fell  on  his  knees  befide  the  pale 
corfe,  and  his  honed  heart  burft  in  a  torrent  from  his 
eyes. 

"  Och  !  my  flower  of  the  foreft,"  faid  he,  "and  art 
thou  gone,  and  was  it  love  that  made  thee  leave  us  ? 
Beautiful,  good,  fweeteft  cf  favages — O  !  thy  pocr 
O'Neil  can  pity  thee.  And  what  fnail  lie  do  now  thqu 
haft  clofed  thine  eyes  ?  Thou  haft  murdered  thy  fweet 
feif,  and  what  is  there  now  in  the  world  that  he 
for  ?" 

Reuben  was  ftrucl;  with  the  fervency   and  hut) 
that  was  at  once  expre/Ted  by  O'Neil ;  for    it  fp< 
plain  as  words  could  {peak,  '  I  loved  her,  but  I  never 
dared  10  tell  my  love,  left  it  fhould  offend  her.' 

Our  hero  by  degrees  drew  him  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  tiie  melancholy  object,  and  proper  forms  being 
gone  through  in  regard  to  the  body,  it  was  buried  in 
a  field  near  the  margin  of  the  riv?r.  O'Neil  banked 
up  the  grave,  twifted  olier  twigs  and  fenced  it  round  ; 
at  the  head  he  planted  a  weeping  willow,  and  at  the 
foot  a  wild  role  tie:.  Of  a  night  when  his  labour  was 
fmiflied,  he  would  vilit  the  fpot,  iing  old  ditties,  and 
weep  whilft  he  fung  ;  and  though  he  Kvcd  to  good  old 
.  O'Neil  never  knew  another  love. 

After  this  period,  our  1  r  many  years  e.. 

ed  an  unmterrupti  Auberry,  en- 

occupied  by   the  cares  of  a  mercantile  li: v  - 
which  lie   had  fuccefsfully  entered,   and  giving    t 
leifure  moment  to  the  aflifting of  Rachel  in  the  ednc 
of  a  beautiful  riling  family,  was  entirely  cut 
oufy  and  ambition,  and  wondered  he  could  have  ever 
doubted    the  faith  of   his  wife,    cr   h..  d    lof- 

'  a  treafirre  forever,  rather  I 
the  hope  of  being  rich  and  great, 
H  h 


362        REUBEN    and    RACHEL,  &c. 

Reuben  and  JeSTy  were  patterns  of  conjugal  felicity, 
and  that  felicity  was  increafed  in  the  courfe  of  a  few 
years,  by  the  arrival  of  old  Mr.  Oliver,  Archibald  and 
Courtney.  The  former  had  faved  a -trifle  from  the 
wreck  of  his  fortune,  which  had  been  almoft  diSfipated 
by  a  worthlefs  woman.  Archibald  brought  with  him 
an  amiable  bride  in  the  perfon  of  Courtney's  filler. 
The  abandoned  Mrs.  Courtney  had  met  the  fate  her 
vicious  courfe  of  life  merited,  and  died  abroad,  ne- 
glected by  all  her  pretended  lovers,  a  vidtim  to  difeafe, 
poverty  and  remorfe. 

It  was  in  the  feventh  year  of  our  hero  and  heroine's 
happy  fettlement  in  Philadelphia,  that  the  latter  was 
told  one  morning  that  a  gentleman  from  England  dc- 
fired  to  fee  her.  She  went  into  the  parlour,  and  be- 
held, to  her  infinite  furprife,  Mr.  Allibi. 

"  Mrs.  Auberry,  I  prefume,"  faid  he,  bowing  pro- 
foundly. "  I  am  happy,  Madam,  to  be  the  firlt  to  wifli 
you  joy  on  a  very  great  and  unexpected  acceSfion  of 
fortune.  Your  huSband's  relation,  lady  Anne,  is  dead  ; 
alfo  her  brother  the  Earl,  and  1  may  now  falute  you 
Countefs  of  Montmorill.  Moreover,"  continued  he,  not 
giving  her  leave  to  Speak,  "  I  am  to  inform  you,  by 
order  of  Mr.  Andrew  Atkins,  that  yourfelf  and  broth- 
er, Mr.  Reuben  Dudley,  being  the  only  defendants 
of  the  lady  Arrabella  Ruthven,  who  married  about 
the  year  1644-5,  with  Edward  Dudley,  fon  of  Henry 
Dudley,  defcendant  of  the  unfortunate  lady  Jane  Grey, 
and  who  relinquishing  her  title,  embarked  with  him 
for  America;  as  I  fay,  yourfelf  and  brother  being  the 
only  legitimate  descendants  of  that  marriage,  you  are 
acknowledged  joint  heirs  to  the  titles  and  immenfe  ef- 
tates  of  the  houie  of  Ruthven.  And  I  am  commif- 
fioned  by  my  very  good  friend,  Mr.  Andrew  Atkins, 
to  receive  your  orders  in  what  manner  he  (hall  proceed 
in  regard  to  faid  ellates,  and  to  inform  you,  your  Lan- 
cashire eftate  is  now,  through  his  care,  entirely  free 
from  incumbrances." 

Rachel,  overwhelmed  by  the  rapidity   with  which 
Allibi  related  all  this  good  news,   and  Scarcely  credit- 
ing what  flic  heard,  yet  understanding  fufScicnt,  per- 
fectly 


TALES    of    OLD    TIMES.         363 

feSily  to  comprehend  the  mean  fineflTe  of  Allibi  and  his 
dirty  employer,  in  thus  informing  her  of  her  accefiion 
of  fortune,  and  making  a  merit  of  relinquishing  the 
Lancashire  eftate,  in  hopes  of  b  ing  mack  agent  and 
fteward  to  thofe  of  much  greater  value,  could  fcarcely 
command  her  temper,  whilft  fhe  interrogated  him  con- 
cerning the  extraordinary  intelligence  he  conveyed. 
However,  being  afcertained  of  the  truth  of  his  ali'er- 
tions,  and  received  from  him  fume  papers  cf  confe- 
quence,  with  a  long,  fulfome,  congratulatory  letter 
from  Mr.  Andrew  Atkins,  ihe  appointed  him  to  call 
the  enfuing  morning,  when  her  brother  and  hufband 
would  be  hire  to  meet  him. 

On  the  following  morning,  therefore,  at  a  little  paft 
eight  o'clock,  Mr.  Allibi  entered  the  breakfaft  parlour, 
where  he  found  Reuben,  Rachel,  Mr.  Auberry  and 
Mrs.  Dudley  aJTembled  to  breakfaft.  After  partaking 
a  focial  meal,  and  delivering  and  attefting  to  every 
neccfTary  paper,  both  in  regard  to  their  new  acquisi- 
tions and  the  Lancaihire  eftate,  be  was  fomewhat 
aftonilhed  to  hear  Reuben  addrefs  him  in  the  follow- 
ing words  : — 

"  You  may  think,  Mr.  Allibi,  that  by  bringing  us 
this  intelligence  you  have  greatly  heightened  our  felic- 
ity ;  and  in  one  refpecl:  you  have,  as  it  extends  our 
power  of  Serving  our  fellow-creatures.  As  to  titles, 
both  my  brother  Auberry  and  his  wife  Rachel,  join 
with  me  to  renounce  them  ;  they  arc  distinctions  noth- 
ing worth,  and  fhould  by  no  means  be  introduced  into 
a  young  country,  where  the  only  distinction  between 
man  and  man  fhould  be  made  by  virtue,  genius  and 
education.  Our  fons  are  true-born  Americans,  and 
while  they  Strive  to  make  that  title  rcSpcctable,  we  wiih 
them  to  poflefs  no  other.  Let  the  titles  then  go,  and 
fuch  of  the  eStates  as  are  annexed  to  them,  to  more 
diftant  branches  of  our  fevcral  families,  or  in  cafe  of 
default  of  heirs,  let  them  fmk  into  oblivion.  Of  the 
immenfe  property  of  which  we  are  become  poifeirors, 
we  Shall  retain  no  more  than  will  fet  our  fons  forward 
in  bufinefs,  and  give  our  daughters  moderate  portions ; 

the 


364        REUBEN    and    RACHEL,  &c. 

the  refldue  fhall  be  equally  divided  amongfl  the   indi- 
gent relatives  of  both  families." 

Allibi  brightened  at  thefe  words,  thinking  he  fliould 
be  conftituted  agent  in  this  buiinefs  ;  but  Reuben  con- 
tinued : — 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  trouble  you  have  ta- 
ken on  my  account,  and  hold  myfelf  your  debtor  for 
the  expenfes  of  your  voyage  and  other  contingencies, 
which,  whenever  you  pleafe,  I  fhall  be  ready  to  dii- 
charge  ;  and  when  you  return,  I  will  trouble  you  with 
a  letter  to  Mr.  Andrew  Atkins,  informing  him  he  will 
be  no  farther  troubled  with  my  affairs,  but  will  pleafe 
to  fettle  all  accounts  with  Mr.  Courtney,  a  gentleman 
who  has  kindly  undertaken  to  go  to  England  for  that 
purpofe." 

The  poor,  drfappomted  Allibi  could  fcarcely  breathe- 
at  the  conclufion  of  this  fpeech  ;  he  ihuffled  on  his  feat, 
attempted  to  recommend  himfelf  by  reprobating  the 
conduct  of  Atkins,  but  a  look  of  marked  contempt 
from  Reuben  filenced  him  ;  and,  mortified  beyond  en- 
durance, he  rofe  haftily  and  took  his  leave. 

In  a  ihort  time,  Courtney  embarked  for  England, 
fettled  every  thing  according  to  the  directions  of  Reu- 
ben and  Auberry,  made  many  an  orphan  glad,  and 
many  a  difconfolate  heart  leap  for  jgy.  He  liberated 
the  poor  debtor,  afforded  relief  to  Mc'freiTed  merit,  and 
wiped  away  the  tear  from  the  eye  of  fufferihg  virtue. 
The  incenfe  of  gratitude  afc ended  towards  heaven, 
and  was  return: J.  in  bleffinga  on  the  heads  of  Reuben* 
Rachel,  and  their  poilerity. 


FINIS. 


ERRATA. 

Vol.  I.  page  129, 14th.  line  from  the  bottom, for  wife  reiAJjfier. 
page  170,  nth.  line  from  the  top,  iorji/ler  read  a 


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